Recently in Christian Life/Personal Holiness Category

I've found myself reading a lot of Timothy Keller recently, and if the books I have read so far are any indication, it is entirely like that I shall be reading more in the near future.

from Counterfeit Gods Timothy Keller

Why did we completely lose sight of what is right? The Bible's answer is that the human heart is an "idol factory."

When most people think of "idols" they have in mind literal statues--or the next pop star anointed by Simon Cowell. Yet while traditional idol worship still occurs in many places of the world, internal idol worship, within the heart, is universal. In Ezekiel 14:3, God says about elders of Israel, "These men have set up idols in their hearts. Like us, the elders must have responded to this charge, "Idols? What Idols? I don't see any idols." God was saying that the human heart takes good things like a successful career, love, material possessions, even family, and turns them into ultimate things. Our hearts deify them as the center of our lives, because we think they can give us significance and security, safety and fulfillment, if we attain them.

And who can deny it. It's like a playdough factory, we no sooner press out and reshape one idol than another one, one that we never suspected lurked within, takes its place.

At A Momentary Taste of Being

I know I shouldn't rail. I know, particularly in the place I am in, that I should roll over and allow the tide to swirl past me. But I can't. The principle of human dignity does not allow me to stand by and observe while we continue to treat people with such barbarity--starting from the first words out of our mouths.

I am used to HR speak that tends to refer to people in aggregate as "resources." I understand what is meant by it--both on the surface and in the subtext. On the surface, it is seemingly harmless enough, a shorthand for people and other essential material. Or so it seems--but given that resources rarely refers to "other essential material" it is really short-hand for the interchangeable mass each of whom is as incapable of the next of accomplishing the task.

People are not resources--not unless you are Pol Pot, Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, or any number of others I could name, eminently capable of doing away with useless "resources." Human dignity rises above the level of a resource, and those of us who are true to our Christian calling need to resist with all of our might the tide of dehumanization that sweeps through our workplaces and our civilization. As small as it may be, changing the language is one place to start with this. When we can stop regarding people as resources, we can begin to understand people as they are--people. A resource is a tool or material that can be put to a limited number of uses in entirely predictable and transferable ways. This description in no way applies to any person. And when we can start thinking of people as people rather than resources, then we no longer have available to us such deplorable and evil euphemisms as "resource reallocation" or "resource sizing" to refer to the potential destruction of hundreds of human lives at corporate whim.

As I said, it's small but it is important. This morning I received an e-mail that asked me "which resources will be used to cover" such-and-such a task. I have not yet phrased my response, but I will tell you without any hesitation at all, it will sharply correct and reflect upon the original phrasing. I do not work with resources--I use them. I work with people, and I endeavor not to use them in that negative sense.

The following entry was originally posted by Paul Draper on his facebook site. I think the thought, while perhaps a bit simplified, is a starting point for an excursus into the understanding of the interface of science and religion.

The Marvelous Tale of Chaperonin, the Patron Saint of Useless Proteins
Paul Draper

September 9, 2009 at 1:08pm

I know next to nothing about biology, and I yesterday I heard the most amazing thing, mentioned almost in passing. I was struck dumb by it, but I get the feeling that if I said, "Wait a sec, that's extraordinary!" a biologist would say, "Oh, yeah, crazy s&$# like that happens all over the place in biology." And I'm going to try to explain this in the way I understand it, not the way a biologist would understand it, because... well, I'm not a biologist.

Proteins are made of long chains of amino acids, which are little T-shaped molecules, and where the left tip of the cross-bar of the T of one molecule connects with the right tip of the cross-bar of the T in the next molecule, leaving all those vertical legs sticking out of the side of the chain. There are 20 different kinds of those vertical legs, and they all have different chemical widgets at the ends. Some have the chemical equivalent of velcro side A, some velcro side B, some hooks, some eyes, some magnetic north poles, some magnetic south poles, some little oily bits that recoil from water, and so on.

And what happens is that this long chain tends to kink and twist and fold up, controlled completely by the velcro side A on one amino acid finding the velcro side B on another, the hook on one finding the eye on another, and so on. You get phone-cord spirals and bobby-pin bends and loom-shuttle sheets first, and then it tangles up some more. The thing is, how it tangles up, and the final shape of the tangled up mess is EVERYTHING to how the protein works. It's got to have that pocket lined with strips of velcro, or that knob with magnet poles, to be the enzyme it's supposed to be or the cell membrane ion channel it's supposed to be. If it doesn't fold up to that shape, then it's useless, and the key is that what shape it will tangle into is completely controlled by that sequence of T's with different widgets.

Now, you can imagine how evolution plays here. Sequences that fold up into a shape that isn't useful will be eventually culled, and sequences that fold into a shape that do something useful will be kept. So there's a natural mechanism for sorting out what in the end gets made and doesn't get made. Evolution is a heartless taskmaster, and proteins that don't do anything worthwhile get the pink slip.

But wait! There's a very complex protein called chaperonin, and it is another thing that folds up to serve a specific purpose. It looks like a snake-charmer's basket, complete with a lid. And what it does is this: It opens its lid and accepts an amino acid chain AND HELPS THAT CHAIN FOLD ITSELF CORRECTLY TO BE USEFUL. That is, it takes a protein that, on its own, would fold itself into something that is useless, and it helps it instead fold itself into something that is useful.

The question at the heart of this is: who ordered the chaperonin?

How does evolution, the heartless taskmaster, look at a useless protein and figure out that maybe there's inner value to that protein, if only there were a guardian angel that could help it do what it can't do on its own? What evolutionary happenstance created the patron saint protein whose sole purpose is to elevate more humble proteins to useful purpose?

This is the kind of thing that, the more you look at it, the more you marvel at how beautiful it is. There is soul in even the coldest machine, if you walk slowly enough to notice it. That's the way I see it, anyway.

Below is my original response to Paul:

Beautifully said, nicely explained. And only one of many things that argues against strict exaptation or even strict empiricism. When we come to a point like this, we enter into the realm of the philosophical subtext of science and we are no longer on the ground of what can be proven--merely what can be observed. Thank you for the note.

I would add to it that while some of the details may not be exactly on target, I think the overall discussion accurate for a layperson and insightful.

I don't think the conclusion is ultimately "intelligent design." But rather that God is imprinted on all of creation--without exception. In this way, I am far closer to Francis S. Collins than Michael Behe. But now we've gotten to the unstated philosophy that underlies any given theory. And philosophy, of itself is not subject to the rigors of the scientific method--such a method is incompatible with the means and ends of most philosophical investigation and most objects that philosophy purposes to examine. That is to say, the observations and explanations of the natural world are certainly subject to the rigors that science brings---however, the underlying whys may not always be amenable to the methods of science.

". . . But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.'" Paul in the First Letter to the Corinthians. (12:8)

"Let your love for one another be intense, because love covers a multitude of sins." (1 Peter 4:8)

"To defend the truth, to articulate it with humility and conviction, and to bear witness to it in life are therefore exacting and indispensable forms of charity."

Pope Benedict XVI--Caritas in Veritate (1)

There are two points I would make regarding this short quotation. First, "to bear witness to it in life." The individual is called not merely to know, defend, and speak the truth, but to live it--a call much more profound and difficult. And secondly, the triumvirate of activities comprises "exacting and indispensable forms of charity." Indispensable.

Enough said.

Four words to those who would be wise: get it, read it. The three excerpts below act as impetus, review, and my own personal sendoff. It is a book I should (but probably won't) re read immediately.

from Render Unto Caesar
Archbishop Charles Chaput

In our day, sanctity-of-life issues are foundational--not because of anyone's "religious" views about abortion, although these are important; but because the act of dehumanizing and killing the unborn child attacks human dignity in a uniquely grave way. Deliberately killing the innocent is always, inexcusably wrong. It sets a pattern of contempt for every other aspect of human dignity. In redefining when human life begins and what is and isn't a human person, the logic behind permissive abortion makes all human right politically contingent. (p. 207)

The lessons of this quasi-religious creed, Brooks suggested, are two: First, "if you really wanted to supercharge the nation, you'd fill it with college students who constantly attend church, but who are skeptical of everything they hear there"; and second, always try to be "the least believing member of one of the more observant sects." (p. 213--referring to current the trend in current American Catholic practice.)

The fact that no ideal or even normally acceptable candidate exists in an election does not absolve us from taking part in it. As Catholic citizens, we need to work for the greatest good. The purpose of cultivating a life of prayer, a relationship with Jesus Christ, and a love for the church is to grow as a Christian disciple--to become the kind of Catholic adult who can properly exercise conscience and good sense in exactly such circumstances. There isn't one "right" answer here. Committed Catholics can make very different but equally valid choices: to vote for the major candidate who most closely fits the moral ideal, to vote for an acceptable third-party candidate who is unlikely to win, or to not vote at all. All of these choices can be legitimate. This is a matter for personal decision not church policy. (230-231)