The Witness of the Cognitively Impaired - A Review of "Living Gently in a Violent World"

All societies struggle with establishing a place for those who live with some form of physical or mental disability. Although we have not arrived, the modern developed world has made great strides in ensuring reasonable accommodations for those with physical disabilities. Despite some accounts of abuses of the ADA, in general, the move toward finding ways to more fully enable the participation of physically disabled persons in society is a good thing. We have struggled to a greater degree with finding a place for those with cognitive disabilities.

(Before moving on, I should note that I am using the word “disability” in a non-pejorative sense. Rather than attempting to establish some euphemism for a physical or cognitive difference from the majority of the population, I am simply indicating that there are individuals who, due to nature or accident, have different capabilities in one particular area that impact their ability to maneuver our society as easily as others. That there are such differences and that they make life more difficult for those who have them is not disputable. Often creative naming conventions appear to hinder rather than help the conversation.)

It is the cognitively disabled who are often least to be integrated into society, and those with both cognitive and physical disabilities who struggle the most. As a result of these disabilities many of these people are often sidelined, discarded, and viewed as problems to be solved rather than people to be loved.

In this, our modern, civilized, and inclusive culture is very little different than any other, despite our prideful belief in advancement. This was reinforced to me recently at a community event out of doors. People were lining the sidewalk to watch a parade of WWII era vehicles and reenactors. Much of the best space was covered several tiers deep, with people sitting on the curb, and a second or third row seated behind.

My family arrived after the initial rush and found one section of the curb unoccupied. The reason quickly became obvious because seated in their wheelchairs and camping chairs along the back of the sidewalk were the residents of a group home, likely the local ARC (which once stood for the Association of Retarded Citizens until “retarded” became an epithet rather than a euphemism). These adults made gross noises, talked at the wrong times, and were otherwise disruptive of polite norms. This meant that the curb in front of them was empty, until we sat down. For many, to be sure, the space was left out of consideration to not interfere with any care the group might need. For others, I wonder if the unwillingness to sit in front was not due to a certain level of disgust with these people and a sub-conscious discomfort at these “misfits.” This second hypothesis is reflective of the generally lower value society often places on those with disabilities, especially cognitive impairments.

In a recently revised book, Living Gently in a Violent World: The Prophetic Witness of Weakness, Stanley Hauerwas and Jean Vanier use the L’Arche communities, founded by Vanier, as an example of honoring the humanity of all persons, including those with cognitive disabilities. The book is worthy of reading, as it is a brief, but potent example of a better way to conceive of care for some of the least valued persons in our society.

Summary

The book is very short. It has only four chapters, book ended by an introduction and conclusion authored by John Swinton. The expanded edition also includes a study guide, with chapter by chapter questions for review.

Two of the chapters were authored by Vanier and two by Hauerwas. Vanier’s chapters deal with practical and personal accounts of life within L’Arche. These accounts, though theologically muddled, demonstrate Vanier’s real and significant concern for the citizens of our world least likely to be valued. The vision he provides of people with cognitive disabilities being treated as humans, with personalities and flaws like the rest of us, is compelling. Instead of hiding the mentally disabled from view and treating them like patients, L’Arche communities involve co-living with “normal” people who interact with them as neighbors rather than as clients. This process both recognizes the unique needs of these individuals and their distinct value as humans.

Hauerwas’s chapters are more theoretical in nature. As is usual for Hauerwas, they are eminently readable, often very pointed, and sometimes powerfully prophetic. The theological vision presented in this book is an application of his broader pacific ethic, an exposition, if you will, on the structure he outlines in books like The Peaceable Kingdom. The degree to which one finds the whole structure of Hauerwas’s ethics convincing will reflect the degree to which one accepts his theological reflections in this volume. He deals with some of the same obvious inconsistencies in this book as in all his works: e.g., writing about ecclesiology while remaining distant from the authority of a church, and, in this book, writing about gentleness with a somewhat aggressive polemic. This is vintage Hauerwas, both prophetic and conflicted in nature, but distinctly worthy of parsing.

The most significant point of this volume, which is a powerful one, is that among its many ethical concerns, the Christian church must remember the cognitively disabled. Caring for them is a reflection of the church’s gospel witness in the world. Because the cognitively disabled can often contribute very little to society in terms of economic productivity, they are often sidelined and hidden from sight. To some degree, this is necessary to shield them from becoming spectacles and ensuring they receive appropriate care. However, the treatment is often as bad as the condition, resulting in ostracization and isolation that denies the imago Dei in the mentally disabled––as if the primary, and perhaps sole, way that we image God is through rational capability (i.e., functional) rather than in our unmeasurable personhood (i.e., ontological). Hauerwas and Vanier draw attention to the insufficiency of this perspective and the need for deeper theological reflection and practical action for the good of Christian communities and the gospel witness of the universal church.

Conclusion

This book is a short, helpful reminder of a potential blind spot in the application of the gospel. Because we have removed the mentally disabled from view, we often forget about them. Organizations like L’Arche and Shepherds ministry are doing good work in seeking to emphasize the humanity of people with cognitive impairments. Not all of us are called to live in those communities, but all of us would do well to ponder how we have unconsciously adopted an instrumental, functional view of the value of humanity, which is reflected by our revulsion at, discomfort with, or simple desire to avoid the presence of those whose minds lack the agility with which we have been unreasonably blessed.

Living Gently in a Violent World: The Prophetic Witness of Weakness

By Stanley Hauerwas, Jean Vanier

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Note: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.

Why We Need Religion - A Review

Some atheists move beyond their objections to religion to a form of frothy mouthed rage that anyone dare believe in something beyond what can be measured, analyzed, and peer reviewed. Famously, Richard Dawkins has asserted that parents teaching their children Christian doctrine is a form of child abuse. And, of course, there are meanspirited gadflies like those in the Freedom From Religion organization who like to attack people engaged in public service for having faith that is not hidden from view. Such antipathy is not universal. Some atheists are more benign. However, there is enough anti-religious emotion among the supposed rationalists that the militant fundamentalist accusations about an “atheist agenda,” etc., etc., are not entirely unfounded (just overblown).

In contrast to such overt hostility, Stephen T. Asma, professor of Philosophy at Columbia College, Chicago, and confirmed atheist, has written a book to argue that maybe religion isn’t quite so bad and doesn’t deserve violent eradication just yet. Accordingly, he offers an intriguing purpose in his recent volume, Why We Need Religion. He writes, “I will endeavor a charitable interpretation of the believer and religion, one that couches such conviction in the universal emotional life that connects us all.” (14)

Summary

The general point of Asma’s book is that scientism is best, but religion helps people feel good, so it should be tolerated by those who know better. While ensuring the reader never doubts his atheistic bona fides, Asma sorts through sociological data that he argues point to the necessity of some form of religion as a “cultural analgesic.”

Asma finds multiple benefits of religion, which he argues are reasons that society should not seek to destroy religion and ridicule believers. In chapter length treatments, Asma argues that religion in general, especially those with a belief in an afterlife, help people navigate sorrow due to death and even personal fear of death. Such myths keep some people from despair, so there is no reason not to allow that beneficial belief.

For some, religion enables the ability to forgive. The belief that there will be justice meted out gives people resources not to seek immediate, personal vengeance. Similarly, a belief in a higher power can help people have mental strength leading to internal peace, resilience, and the ability to sacrifice for others.

Religion also enables people to find communal joy, to channel sexual energy, and engage in forms of imaginative play. These aspects of religion, according to Asma, have evolved in ways that differentiate us from some of the lower animals and help us get by as a society. At other points, religion proves useful in helping people control their fear and anger.

Analysis

Given his assumptions, the argument is reasonable throughout, but the general point is that religion—at least some level of religion—is acceptable because it has socially and evolutionarily beneficial fruit. Thus, even if it is not actively encouraged, certain types of religion should be deemed acceptable, as long as it sufficiently agrees with the moral consensus of society and encourages behaviors approved by enough people. For example, religion that fosters contemporary forms of functional egalitarianism, pursuit of approved economic and social outcomes, and controls unsocial emotional outbursts should be accepted.

At a most basic level, it is nice to have an atheist write something that does not curse every believer for their foolishness and vehemently denigrate their existence for not aligning their faith commitments to those of radical empiricism. Asma’s book shows that the conversation between religion and radical empiricism need not be an out and out street fight at all times, especially if one accepts a version of religion that is palatable for skeptics.

Ironically, though he is an atheist, Asma makes many of the same arguments for religion in general that some versions of Christianity (the religion with which I am most familiar) make. Religion can help you live your best life now. Believing can make you a better citizen. Your kids won’t misbehave as much if you keep them in church. You can have inner peace if you will just believe. There’s no need to fear death if you’ll just pray this prayer. The list can go on and on. This observation shows the paucity of much teaching among Christians of varying stripes. I have heard similar pitches presented as “evangelism” before, and sometimes they succeed in getting people to participate in activities with Christians for a while. There is a pointed lesson here, for those whose faith would be acceptable to an atheist.

The acceptable religion Asma hopes for is the one that nods toward doing good deeds from time to time, talks about miracles as fiction that points to a higher moral, and moves aside traditional doctrines that interfere with the current popular polls. In Christian circles, Asma’s preferred forms of religion align very well with the stated doctrines of many mainline Protestant denominations and lived faith of many Evangelical and Roman Catholic adherents. Lukewarm is the hottest the faucet should go, lest it lead to a failure to go with the flow. Coexist bumper stickers are the main sign of approved faith, rather than rosaries, crucifixes, or fish stickers. Bland is the religion that is properly admissible by the Zeitgeist.

Asma’s arguments also reveal there is no point at which the attempt of liberal Christianity to create a truly minimalist faith will ever really be acceptable in society. As the moral winds shift and the polling changes, there will always be a new doctrine considered anti-social and require abandonment. Whatever vestiges of truth and odor of gospel efficacy is left in an acceptable version of Christianity won’t have much power to save, if any at all in a few years. In other words, Asma reveals that seeking praise from atheists isn’t a worthy endeavor because nothing but utter capitulation will ever be applauded, so those who claim to be orthodox and faithful should focus on doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God as we believe and proclaim a rigorous, full-throated, gospel-saturated doctrine.

For faithful, orthodox Christian readers, the best use of this book is to see in it an affirmation of some of the things that we know to be true, though Asma denies the basis. Faith in Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit can help make us better citizens, to the degree that society maintains a true sense of the common good. Basically, Asma is arguing that we aren’t (always) the moral equivalent of child abusers and sometimes actually do good things, which is better than the alternative.

In the end, this is a book that was not written to people who really believe what they claim to believe, whether they are Christian, Mormon, Buddhist, or whatever. This is a book that, despite claiming to offer an olive branch, oozes condescension on nearly every page. It’s a patronizing pat on the head from the person who pretended to listen while you speak to them and then lets you know he was ignoring everything you said by his smug smile and dismissive comment. Most probably, though, the target audience for this book is not people who actually believe and practice their faith, it is the mushy middle and the militant atheist.

One possible positive outcome is that some from the mushy middle may encounter the gospel if they wander into a faithful Christian church on some Sunday morning to find the inner peace Asma highlights; may Asma’s work bear such fruit.

On the other hand, this is a book that may be helpful if it has the socially beneficial result of tempering the fundamentalist zealotry of a few atheists. On that basis, I think that it makes a valuable contribution to the conversation of the relationship between religion and society.

Why We Need Religion

By Stephen T. Asma

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NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.

How to Think - A Review

It is an understatement to argue that our nation and, indeed, the world is significantly divided. This is not a new phenomenon, really, though the nature of the division is somewhat different. Anyone who lived through the social polarizations of the Vietnam era in the US is likely to recognize some similar patterns of division, especially in the apparently significant division of thought between younger and older generations.

However, as Neil Postman shows in his classic volume, Entertaining Ourselves to Death, our culture has cultivated an alternative epistemology by producing and consuming media that shape us in ways that tend to undermine our ability to sustain cogent thought for extended periods of time. My review of that book left more questions than answers about how to overcome this seismic shift in the way we know.

In his book, How to Think: A Survival Guide for a World at Odds, Alan Jacobs actively tackles that challenge, offering an approach to thinking that promises to begin to unravel the tangled know to social dissonance.

Summary

After outlining the problem and its significance in the introduction to his book, Jacobs proceeds to offer some helpful considerations of the nature of thinking and how to do it better. For example, he begins by arguing that thinking must be done in community. Despite the intellectual isolation that often gets attributed to Descartes––I think, therefore I am––Jacobs shows that solitary thinking, divorced from the community, results in antisocial rationalities that often lead to internal conflicts within someone’s vision of the world. Thinking together helps form people for community and sharpen thinking to prevent rational inconsistencies.

Part of thinking together, as Jacobs notes, is ensuring we come to an understanding of the position of others before we respond. Much of our division is the result of people actively misrepresenting their intellectual opponent’s position. This is enabled by our contemporary social climate because there is a prevalence of repulsion to outgroups, whose status of being gross justifies people’s ignorance of their position. For example, many academics (by their own writing) actively despise orthodox Christians and the feeling is reciprocated in many cases, not least because of a regular pattern of condescension and abuse. Those who think will have to overcome our tribalism and seek to understand the position of humans with whom we disagree.

Add to the social dynamic the confusion of communication forums and you have a recipe for incomprehensibility. For example, there are few forms of communication that have a defined audience. The internet makes it possible for someone’s offhand comment or argument shaped for a particular hearer to be dissected, masticated, and hurled back at the writer with incredible bile. For example, a few years ago, TGC contributor, Gaye Clarke write an article about her transformation regarding her views on race and humanity. The article was, fairly plainly, intended to help white evangelicals remove their racial blinders. The language she used, therefore, did not match the latest terminology and Clarke was trolled, abused, and harassed by activists who find her terms repugnant. The article was removed, the woman defamed, and the prejudices of Clarke’s intended audience against “Social Justice Warriors” was confirmed. The conversation has no defined borders. Similarly, the “Sea Lion” phenomena, is when someone overhears (literally or on the internet) a comment not intended for them and persistently harasses the participants in the conversation demanding a response. The technique does much to further division and little to aid communication.

Division is augmented and fertilized by attempts to change and control vocabulary. The standard terminology from five years ago is this year’s hate speech. Or, certain terminology is considered to be permitted only to people within a special demographic. The point is rarely to further human knowledge, but more often to create a power dynamic that disadvantages someone from an out group. For example, the term social justice arose from Roman Catholic literature, but has since been coopted to imply a whole host of anti-human policies. Likewise, the political left is getting increasingly belligerent in their insistence that the only “pro-life” position is full socialism. Jacobs show that words matter, how we use them is important, and that thinking people have to sometimes get beyond delimiting terminology to actually examine differing the support for other positions.

Another critical aspect of Jacobs’ treatise is his undermining the idea that an “open mind” is the ideal state for thinking individuals. While he spends multiple chapters encouraging people to carefully consider other positions and to active reevaluate their own, he is also clear in arguing the point in seeing is not to go on seeing through things, but to actually see some things clearly. Channeling Chesterton, Jacobs argues that the only purpose of an open mind is to close on something solid, like a mouth. So, being a person that thinks does not mean being an ideological drifter.

Finally, How to Think is encouraging, even after all the work Jacobs recommends, because it shows that being a thinking person is well worth the effort. Becoming better thinkers is the only way we are going to get out of the mess we are in.

Conclusion

How to Think is a worthwhile book. It is relatively short, concise, but very important. Although I came into the book agreeing with Jacobs—especially about the importance of thinking—there were multiple times where his examples stepped on my toes and made me reconsider the way I argue and respond to arguments.

For those who want to reach others—to really engage and persuade—this is the sort of volume that can help someone break through barriers and, perhaps, lead even hostile voices on the opposite side of the issue change their minds. Or, at worst, even if it doesn’t help us persuade, it can help us understand and therefore reduce the frustration with our ongoing ideological deadlock.

How to Think: A Survival Guide for a World at Odds

By Alan Jacobs

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On a Vacation Rest

I was on vacation with my family recently and I witnessed the amazing inefficiency of a state park in New York. Sitting on 65,000 acres in Western New York, Allegany State Park has a lot of standing timber that could be cut for building and rich soil in valleys that could be put to work growing crops. All of that land sitting idle, with only a few cabins and camping sites for the odd tourist.

It was beautiful to see that inefficiency. The politicians who set aside a large swath of land did a good thing.

There’s nothing wrong with putting land to work for the benefit of humans. God gave us the right to use the land, but at the same time we were given the responsibility to care for it well (Gen 2:15). Sometimes, however, the purpose of the created order is to point our minds toward the Creator (Psalm 19:1-4).

There is something majestic about a seeing hillsides covered with trees in an unbroken field of green. It reminded me that the world isn’t all about sidewalks and subdivisions.

Parks are a reminder of the principle of Sabbath. Rest. Beauty. Delight. These are the sorts of things that land set aside for recreation or simply for preservation can remind us of.

In the end, our lives are not ultimately measured by our productivity, but by how we delight God.