Mixing this think-to-muchness part of me with the part that loves to wind down with a little escapist television can be a lethal combination. As much as it pains me, I need some sort of internally coherent logic that justifies watching something that others might consider either objectionable, pointless or both. Since we haven’t ever had cable, I have been limited to things I could catch while on vacation or visiting family—that is, until my iPad and precious TV apps came along. Oh, happy day.

Still, over the years I have been forced, with great pain and regret, to drop a number of shows for various reasons. Survivor was one of the first to go for all the bikinis and the justification of deceit and backstabbing. A number of shows have been weeded out for the constant promotion of the gay agenda. Despite their liberal leanings, I thought I would always have PBS. Masterpiece Theater, Antiques Roadshow and History Detectives all rank among the best of the best as far as I am concerned. Even better, who is going to criticize you for zoning out to PBS, home of Sesame Street and Frontline?

But even this safe haven has been breached of late and has me looking for cover. It started with a few Masterpiece Mysteries and Masterpiece Contemporaries that shocked me with their sexual content. Still, one hates to play the part of the prude. I was one of the first to hop on the now crowded Downton Abbey bandwagon. Sure there was Thomas but it seemed a side story worthy of ignoring. Over the course of the last two seasons, however, I have become increasingly uncomfortable with the shows apologetic campaign for homosexuality, along with other plot lines that seem to be headed for adultery.

Last year I thought I had found a show with an incorruptible premise—Call the Midwife. How could a show about delivering babies in 1950s East End London go south? Half the characters are nuns, for crying out loud! Imagine my surprise, then, when suddenly nuns are justifying incest, nurses are casually referring to premarital sex, and on the last episode everyone is turning a blind eye to abortion.

This last episode was it for me. Recently I have felt a deep shame for our nation’s participation in the killing of the innocent and while I don’t know where this shame will lead me, the least I can do is turn off the TV. If I could, I would call the midwife and tell her how mystified I am at the simultaneous celebration of the miracle of life and the justification of ending that life before it has begun. I guess this show and many like it suffer from the same warring factions as my brain. Hopefully, good will win out in the end, but I am not holding my breath.

Still, even this kinder, gentler approach leaves me sore in places I had forgotten and I am sticking to the back row for sure. This is the safest spot for the most part…safest right up until our Pilates guru requires the class to face the back of the room. With dread, I flop over aware that now everyone can see me struggling to keep my leg at a 90-degree angle. Who am I kidding? I am lucky to be maintaining a decent 45.

This act of voluntary humiliation, along with all the other voluntary and not-so-voluntary acts of humiliation I experience daily, has me thinking…thinking about just what it is I think I am about in life.

Early in the morning, staring head on at my mirror image in all my sweaty, panting glory, I am confronted with the reality of my weakness. I have come face to mirrored face with the assumptions I make about what it means for me to succeed.

I have always thought that if I put my mind to it, I could achieve most of my goals, as a writer, a wife, a beastly fit, though slightly over the hill mom. I am always pushing myself to work harder, to try harder with the assumption that achieving what God has called me to achieve will result in the ultimate success of my endeavors. It isn’t as though I thought all my effort was the only thing that was required. I assumed that God would make up the difference, that together we would make it happen, whatever that “it” might be. But what if I am operating under a false premise? What if God wants me to work hard, to sweat and groan and press on but without reaping the outward fruit I see in the lives of others?

I love Paul’s analogy of the church as the body of Christ. It makes so much sense of how we can all work separately toward one goal, each with our own gifts and talents. I have never thought of myself as a vital organ. To be the heart or lungs, the feet or hands seems like a lot of pressure and way too visible for me. But I have fancied the idea of perhaps some second tier system, important in its own way, quietly carrying out essential work without a lot of fanfare, but appreciated nonetheless.

What if I have been called to be a toenail or an eyebrow? Superficial and hardly noticed unless it malfunctions in some way. What if my caring out the plan God has for me means living in obscurity, sticking it out in the back row?

This is not the place where I pause for dramatic effect and wait for all the comments to come flooding in telling me how important I really am. This is the place where I learn to truly embrace Paul’s image of the body, whatever my place in it. This is where I look in the mirror and make peace with what I see. Maybe in doing so, I will make myself more worthy of a place in the higher ranks and then again, maybe not. Maybe I will just be okay with hanging out in the back row, keeping my eyes looking forward, not in the mirror but at the class Instructor. After all, He is the one I should have been looking at all along.

However, the authors of the article, Alberto Giubilini and Francesca Minerva, are far from the first moral philosophers to defend infanticide.  In recent decades the practice has been advocated by such prominent scholars as Mary Ann Warren and Peter Singer.  And in ancient Greece Plato notoriously defended the practice in his classic work The Republic.

However, it is one thing for a practice to be embraced by a small minority of scholars.  It is quite another for it to be accepted by the most prominent reproductive health organization in the country.  In a recent hearing in the Florida state legislature, a Planned Parenthood official, Alisa LaPolt Snow, essentially defended the right of abortion providers to kill newborn babies—in particular, those which are born alive after a failed abortion.  Snow was pummeled with questions from several legislators, inviting her to acknowledge that such newborn babies have a right to life.  But Snow coolly demurred, insisting that “any decision that’s made should be left up to the woman, her family, and the physician.”  Of course, “any decision” would include the decision to kill the baby.  You can see an excerpt of the discussion here.  As you watch, bear in mind that Planned Parenthood is an organization that our tax dollars support.

This is a vivid and disturbing example of how yesterday’s most implausible academic theories become today’s horrific practices.  But given the demise in our culture of a Judeo-Christian ethic and its core notion of the sanctity of human life (as opposed to a quality of life ethic), we shouldn’t be surprised.  Ideas have consequences.  And when a society reject an idea that is crucial to the preservation of basic morality, extreme evil will follow.  Infanticide is such an evil.

At no time in history has there been so much published on the topic as there has been in the last few decades.  Innovative formulations of the problem and equally innovative means of rebutting the objection continue to emerge, advancing the discussion in illuminating ways.  The newly published God and Evil: The Case for God in a World Filled with Pain (InterVarsity, 2013) is a welcome addition to the conversation.  Edited by Chad Meister and James K. Dew, Jr., the book features contributions from over twenty scholars, dealing with a wide variety of issues.

The first part of the book features three chapters (by Greg Ganssle, Yena Lee, James Dew and Bruce Little) that distinguish different formulations of the problem of evil.  This is followed by a section offering several defenses and theodicies, including the “free process” defense (Garry DeWeese), the Augustinian approach (Doug Geivett), the Leibnizian “best possible world” theodicy, (Jill Graper Hernandez), and the Irenaean “soul-making” theodicy (by yours truly).

The next section features chapters on a variety of issues, including original sin and primeval sin (Paul Copan), the hiddenness of God (Chad Meister), evil and prayer (Charles Taliaferro), evil and the resurrection of Jesus (Gary Habermas), evil in non-Christian religions (Win Corduan), evil and the new atheism (David Beck), and evil as evidence for Christianity (Greg Ganssle).

The fourth section addresses issues of special current interest, including evil and religious diversity (William Lane Craig), evil and the problem of Hell (Kyle Blanchette and Jerry Walls), evil and intelligent design (William Dembski), and evil and evolution (Karl Giberson and Francis Collins).  The book concludes with an appendix featuring the transcript of a well-known debate on the problem of evil between William Lane Craig and Michael Tooley.

Naturally, I was delighted to be a part of this project, and I’m eager to dig into the book with the Philosophy of Religion class I am teaching this semester.  It is especially gratifying to see all of the Taylor University connections represented in the volume, including my illustrious colleague Win Corduan, our former student Jill Graper Hernandez (now a professor at University of Texas at San Antonio), and Doug Geivett, whom I replaced at Taylor when he left for Talbott School of Theology two decades ago.

If you are looking for a book that will introduce you to current perspectives on evil and provide a rich set of resources for responding to the problem, God and Evil would be ideal.  All of us who contributed were careful to write our chapters in an engaging style that is informative but does not bog down in technical detail.  So the book will be of interest to both the lay reader as well as the seasoned scholar.

2. Here is an interesting piece from the Chronicle of Higher Education about “The Quest for Permanent Novelty.”  It provokes reflection about the nature and purpose of art but also—presumably aside from the author’s intentions—thoughts about the ineradicable human desire for what is eternal.

3. And, in case you missed it, take a look at this clip where Senator Ted Cruz repeatedly asks U. S. Attorney General Eric Holder this question:  Would it be constitutional for a government drone to kill a suspect who poses no imminent threat.  Simple, right?  Not for Eric Holder.  Gulp.

4. Lastly, here is my Books & Culture review of Bob Dylan’s latest album, Tempest.

Our road to the final was not easy, as we had to defeat last year’s champion, Whitworth University, in the semi-final match.  In the championship match we faced DePauw University, a team with whom we are very familiar, having faced them many times before in our Central States Regional competitions.  Like Taylor, DePauw is a liberal arts college from Indiana.  It was an exciting match, as the Wyndham Hotel ballroom was packed, and the cases debated were highly controversial—illegal immigration and active euthanasia.  Both teams did brilliant work articulating

Semi-final match against Whitworth University

and defending their views, and the judges were divided as to who the winner should be.  In the end, DePauw prevailed by the narrowest of margins: 154-153.  Congratulations to the DePauw University team!

The issues debated during the course of the day’s competition concerned such topics as pre-natal genetic testing, protest tactics used by animal rights groups, art museums’ use of stolen art, and a novel technological approach to combating global warming.  Each year the fifteen national tournament cases are posted in mid-January, so teams have about six weeks to prepare.  However, the questions posed are not known until match time, so teams must know their cases thoroughly and be prepared to address the many ethical dimensions of each case.

Other schools that competed included Colgate University, Villanova University, Loyola University Chicago, University of Oklahoma, Georgetown University, Utah State University, Maryland University, University of North Florida, the U.S. Naval Academy and twenty others.

Our team included Tom Weingartner (Senior), Sarah Sawicki (Senior), Suzanne Neefus (Junior), Nathaniel Cullen (Sophomore), Mark Taylor (Sophomore), Jess Biermann (Sophomore), Kasey Leander (Freshman), and Veronica Toth (Freshman).  And my assistant coach is Cathy Kerton-Johnson.  Ours is a relatively young team, so Cathy and I are looking forward to having another strong squad next year.  Of course, the outcome of these competitions is not as important as the qualities that Ethics Bowl develops in the students, including ethical reasoning abilities, public communication skills, and a deeper moral seriousness.  So like athletics, Ethics Bowl is a means to the end of character formation, rather than an end in itself.  But the competition really is a great motivator and a lot of fun!

Early in his book, From the Garden to the City (Kregel, 2011), John Dyer writes, “When we fail to recognize the impact of…technological change, we run the risk of allowing our tools to dictate our methods.  Technology should not dictate our values or our methods.  Rather, we must use technology out of our convictions and values” (p. 25).  This passage summarizes a major theme in the book, in which Dyer draws from the likes of Jacques Ellul, Marshall McLuhan, and Neil Postman in explaining, as the book’s subtitle puts it, “the redeeming and corrupting power of technology.”  As a professional web developer, Dyer is no luddite.  And his theological training and sharp intuition for cultural critique uniquely equip him to treat this subject in a balanced and insightful way.

Dyer begins with biblical anthropology, noting how God made humans rational and designed us for creative work, as evident in the cultural mandate in the first chapters of Genesis.  And from the very beginning of human civilization, we have been acting on that mandate, making and remaking culture and using technology to do so.  Dyer observes numerous ways in which key biblical events centered on technology, from Adam and Eve’s use of fig leaves to cover their nakedness to God’s “upgrade” to animal skins for clothing to the city construction of Cain to the diverse cultural innovations of Cain’s grandchildren to the infamous technological idolatry of the Tower of Babel.  It appears that human technology always reflects both what is good and what is bad about human nature.

With Marshall McLuhan, Dyer rejects the naïve but popular notion that technology is always neutral.  McLuhan calls this “the numb stance of the technological idiot” (p. 83).  This is because, as McLuhan notes, all technology tends to:  (1) magnify or extend something that humans do naturally, (2) eliminate something we used to do, (3) retrieve something from the past, and (4) create “the possibility of reversing into a more negative behavior when its overused” (p. 88).  Everything from cars to cell phones vividly illustrate all of these tendencies.

Dyer’s book ultimately frames a theology of technology in terms of the biblical story of redemption—in terms of Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration.  Specifically, he tells us that (1) human technology is born out of and reflects the Imago Dei, (2) that we are prone to misuse our technology, (3) that technology may nonetheless be used redemptively, and (4) human technology will have a role in the final restoration of humanity, as we dwell in the New Jerusalem, the eschatological city of God.

Thanks to John Dyer for this balanced, biblically grounded discussion of the positive potentials and inherent dangers of technology.  I highly recommend it to anyone interested in how to think Christianly about technology or, more broadly, how to do theological analysis of culture.

Despite my following the game closely for more than four decades since, I recall that 1970 season better than any other NFL season.  It made a huge impression on me at several levels.  One game between my Lions and their division rival Minnesota Vikings was especially crushing.  Yet it was not as devastating as the one the week before against the New Orleans Saints, who upset the Lions on a record breaking 63-yard field goal by Tom Dempsey as time expired.  It haunts me to this day though, again ironically, I eventually became a Saints fan, too.  I know, I need therapy.

So what is it about this game that fascinates so many of us, even to the point that we find ourselves watching highlights of old games on You Tube, reliving the most heartbreaking losses of our sports fan lives?  I have no idea.  Aristotle would say it’s about catharsis—purging negative emotions through experiencing (or re-experiencing) the “tragedy” of tough losses.  Perhaps.  Maybe there is some other explanation.  All I know is that I’m an addict of NFL football and will be for life.  And tomorrow’s Super Bowl will be yet another opportunity to revel in the biggest game of the year.  Regardless of the outcome, it’s another chance to take solace in the fact that a lot of other people share my disappointment that our teams didn’t win it all this year.  Like I said, I need therapy.

Oh, and by the way, I’m picking the Ravens in the game tomorrow:  23-20.  In overtime!

• “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

• “An individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust…is in reality expressing the highest respect for the law.”

• “The question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists will we be.  Will we be extremists for hate or for love…for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice?”

In his argument for full equality for black Americans, King appealed repeatedly to Scripture (especially the New Testament and the words of Jesus) and the authority of Christian theologians such as Augustine and Aquinas.  Now it is interesting to note that today many Americans staunchly oppose any mixing of religion and politics.  More specifically: they are critical of any use of theological arguments to defend public policies.  So by this standard, King was way out of line when he appealed repeatedly to Scripture to defend his views.  And he was completely off base when declaring “We will win our freedom because the sacred heritage of our nation and the eternal will of God are embodied in our echoing demands.”

Of course, some theological arguments are better than others, whether they regard issues in metaphysics, ethics, politics, or any other subject matter.  Some criticisms of theo-political arguments are quite warranted.  But the point is that not all such arguments are necessarily flawed or illegitimate.  And if one believes otherwise, then one must be willing to accept the uncomfortable conclusion that King’s approach was fundamentally flawed.

So the next time you hear someone complain tout court about appeals to theology to defend political views, you might want to kindly inquire what they think of the tactics and rhetorical strategy of Martin Luther King, Jr.  I suspect that more often than not the person will be disturbed by the realization that their anti-theological dogma forces them to bite a bullet they aren’t prepared to bite.

Recently, I have watched two such movies, Lincoln and The Iron Lady, and was struck dumb by the contrast. Obviously, the dumbness has worn off, though I still may gape a bit now and then when comparing the two films. I have read several books about the life and death of Abraham Lincoln and especially enjoyed Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin. So Lincoln, based it loosely on Goodwin’s book, was just my cup of tea. I highly recommend the movie though I will say that being knowledgeable about Lincoln and especially the back story of his relationships with his cabinet enhances the experience. There just isn’t enough time to develop the complexity of those stories within the film, especially with Spielberg’s focus on the passage of the thirteenth amendment.

I wish we had the time and money to have seen the movie twice because I am still undecided as to whether or not it was a truly great movie or if it was good movie with an amazing performance. Daniel Day Lewis makes you feel as though you are watching Lincoln the man rather than Lincoln the movie. My respect for him as an actor could not be higher.

There is another amazing portrayal of an historical figure in The Iron Lady—Meryl Streep as Margaret Thatcher. This is an example of a terrible film with a fantastic performance. Told from the perspective of an aging, delusional and alcoholic Thatcher, this film manages to take one of the most interesting political dramas of the twentieth century and reduce it to a pathetic old woman watching home movies with her long dead husband. As Jim asked me afterwards, why make a movie about a person you so obviously dislike?

The best I can say about this film is at least it has inspired me to find out more about Lady Thatcher. While Lincoln had everything I love about history, The Iron Lady wasn’t even Brussel sprout, take-your-medicine-like-a-good-girl history. While Lincoln was both enjoyable and edifying, The Iron Lady was neither chocolate nor Brussel sprout, just a gooey, unappetizing mess and that is certainly a meal I am happy to pass on.