Against armchair humanitarianism

London | Spring 2016

I know I'm far from the first to pick up on this theme, with satirical websites like McSweeney's Internet Tendency featuring articles like "When My Grandkids Ask Me What I Did to Fight American Fascism, I'll Proudly Tell Them I Tweeted a Few Times". But I think Western culture currently faces a set of issues that I'll group together under the title of 'armchair humanitarianism'.

From the comfort of our living rooms we can watch the news or surf the web and immediately share our thoughts on one crisis after another with hundreds or thousands of 'friends'. This ability certainly has an upside, in that we are probably more aware of what is happening around the world than any previous generation. At the same time, the sheer number of tragedies and injustices can overwhelm and immobilise us, leaving us unsure where to contribute our time, our money -- even our attention.

We comment on Facebook or change a profile picture in a show of solidarity and assume that we've discharged our duty toward our fellow man. I'm 'woke', I know what's really happening in the world, and I've expressed my outrage at all the right people, so I've done my bit. We show how much we care, 'virtue signal' to others on social media, and consider that a good day's work. We expiate any guilt we feel in 140 characters.

We're attracted to sexy causes and issues -- often ones that celebrities are vocal about -- sometimes at the expense of equally important but less glamorous problems. For instance, AIDS rightly gets a lot of press, but did you know that (at least as of 2014) the WHO estimated that a child dies of malaria every minute? And while Americans are hand-wringing and bashing one another about differing views on healthcare (not that this isn't important), 200 more migrants/refugees are feared to have drowned, after two capsized boats were found off the coast of Libya. But this has almost ceased to be a story, because it has happened so many times before.

We forget old or failed causes and look for something new to care about. So we 'care deeply' about something for a short time -- even a long time -- and think that this alone makes us better people. The problem is, you can't eat moral outrage. You can't dress wounds with it, you can't stop conflicts with it. Solutions require action that reaches beyond the screen.

Information and empathy are important as we begin to address natural disasters, injustices, etc., but they are only a small part of what must happen. Too often I think we assume that once we've read and retweeted an article or two, we've done what we could and someone else must step in and get their hands dirty. But what if a whole generation thinks this way?

This is as much a challenge to myself as to anyone else to get out of the figurative armchair and put down the phone and sweat a little in the cause of what is right. I'm not calling for indiscriminate action, or for people necessarily to go to the far corners of the globe (there's plenty of injustice closer to home) but for each of us to take an active part in seeking solutions to the problems we see around us -- and ensuring that even the less glamorous or novel issues get the attention they need.

Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.

I John 3:18

On sharing

I had to learn to share from a young age, since my first little brother came along well before I was two years old. I had to share my Duplos (anyone remember those?) as well as our parents' attention.

As time went by, my life was enriched by the coming of more little brothers. It was also complicated, as I learned to share more than just my toys. I didn't always like it when my brothers butted in on 'girl movies' I was supposed to be watching with just our mom. Sharing time and attention didn't come naturally.

Then, as I got into those overwhelming teenage years, my parents kept telling me I had to learn how to communicate -- to share those icky, messy feelings and the deeply personal thoughts that lay beneath (some of) them.

If we're being honest, I think for many of us that's a lifetime's work right there -- learning to share our deepest thoughts and emotions (and discerning with whom to share them). Vulnerability: in my head it comes with the image of standing naked in public. Both sound fairly unpleasant.

Yet, as that famous Lewis quote reminds us, "To love at all is to be vulnerable" (C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves). So the inverse is true: if we refuse vulnerability, we're cutting ourselves off from love. I think that's the one thing most of us fear more than vulnerability -- a life without love.

Before you decide I'm just repeating what has been said more eloquently by others, what I'd actually like to consider in a bit more depth is the intersection of love and beauty. Not in the conventional sense of how physical attraction relates/should relate to love, but how loving others relates to sharing experiences of beauty.

This is something I'm not always very comfortable with, because it requires a particular type of vulnerability. You're inviting someone else into your interior life, showing them the things you cherish in the privately curated museum of your soul. Whether it's a poem, a symphony, a fiery sunset, an indie rock song or an impressionist painting, we're not only sharing something we find beautiful, but we're also sharing something about ourselves -- how we see the world and how its beauty touches us.

And of course, with this openness enters the possibility of rejection, of ridicule. Sharing is always a risk, because the other person can, if they choose, just take and never give back, or stomp all over the thing we've given them. Still, if Lewis is to be believed, it is a risk worth taking.

We must also allow others to share their appreciation of beauty with us. This requires us to be open to the idea that we don't have a monopoly on good taste or sensitivity to beauty, which should be obvious, but is easy to forget in practice. Humility -- not a hugely popular word, but a Christian virtue (1 Peter 5:5) -- plays a role here. Philippians 2:3 instructs us, in love, to esteem others more highly than ourselves; I think it is safe to say this includes giving weight to others' opinions on and perceptions of beauty (though of course we mustn't abandon discrimination/taste altogether -- another post in that).

The goal, in the end, is "love unfeigned" (2 Corinthians 6:6, KJV). I love that old-fashioned word. It's the genuine article, illustrated perfectly of course in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, who sees and can redeem the beauty in each one of us -- because, of course, he put it there.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time."

- Ecclesiastes 3:11 - 

Cambridge | March 2017

Life has been your art

“Life has been your art. You have set yourself to music. Your days are your sonnets.”
Oscar Wilde

I've started reading Hidden Art, by Edith Schaeffer, and I've found it so encouraging both as a Christian and an artist (in the broader sense, i.e., a writer, sadly with no special talent for painting/sculpting/sketching). Here's an extended quote -- her thoughts really need no introduction.

What is creativity? What is it we do when we create something? We start with an idea, or a number of ideas. Something comes into our minds. We have a flow of ideas, sometimes a tremendous flow of ideas, at times in one direction, or at other times in another direction; or perhaps even ten directions at once. And we have to make a choice. We cannot do everything that comes into our minds, nor can we create everything that comes into our imaginations, whether it be in a very great or complicated area of science or art, or in a very mundane area . . . There is choice involved in the very simplest form of creativity, because as any set of possibilities comes into our minds, we have to choose.

Man, because he is limited, has a very limited choice. He is limited by time, as well as talent. He is limited by the resources at his disposal as well as in the skill to use what he has. We do not all have the talent to produce all the ideas that come into our minds . . .. A man might think of some great painting in his mind, but not be able to execute it on canvas at all, because he does not have the talent to paint.

But time is also involved. We each have a very limited number of hours in a day. Often I would like to add to those hours, but have never found a way to do it. There are just seven of those twenty-four-hour periods in a week, and a very limited number of weeks in a month, and there are only twelve months in a year. Then, how many years are there in a life? It really goes -- like that! It does not take long to disappear.

And so -- what can we get done in those few hours and days and weeks and years? We are limited by time and by areas of talent and ability. So our creativity is not on God's level at all. His creativity is unlimited and infinite. Nevertheless we have been created in His image, so we can be, and are made to be, creative.

Man has a capacity both for responding and producing, for communicating as well as being inspired. It is important to respond to the art of others, as well as to produce art oneself. It is important to inspire others to be creative as well as to communicate by one's own creative acts.

And, skipping ahead a bit:

Is a Christian -- one who is in communication daily with the Creator (communication made possible because of redemption through the blood of Christ) -- to divorce himself from the things God created and intended man to have, and which demonstrate the fact that man has been made in the image of God? In other words are we, who have been made in the image of our Creator, and who acknowledge and understand what that means because we know God exists, and experience communication with Him -- are we to be less creative than those who do not know that the Creator made them in His image, and who have no contact with Him?

It seems to me that the marks of personality -- love, communication, and moral sensitivity -- which are meant to sharpen as we are returning to communication with God, should lead to an increased rather than a decreased creativity. The Christian should have more vividly expressed creativity in his daily life, and have more creative freedom, as well as the possibility of a continuing development in creative activities.

 [Quotes taken from p. 24-25 and p. 28-29 of Hidden Art]

Trinity College, Cambridge | February 2017

Welcome, 2017.

You cannot conceive, my child, nor can I or anyone the . . . appalling . . . strangeness of the mercy of God. 

[Graham Greene, Brighton Rock] 

As usual, it has been too long since I last posted, and I'm basically only doing so now to avoid finishing unpacking and/or any number of other tasks that are more pressing. I think of it as 'productive procrastination'.

It turns out I haven't taken a ton of pictures yet this year, but that isn't because life has been moving slowly. To quote one of my favourite 80s films: "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it" [Ferris Bueller's Day Off].

One of the definite highlights of this new year has been just that -- the chance to stop and look around -- in one of my favourite settings, the French Alps. Pictures below, along with a few others from California and Cambridge. (NB: Credit for a number of the ski holiday pictures goes to others on the trip.)

One of my favourite views driving the roads back home -- two of the Seven Sisters (extinct volcanoes).

Bird congress.

Trying out a new Italian place -- just missing Ralph.

Don't know what they were up to, but clearly it isn't my fault that I'm looking away from the camera (phone) in this one.

Jack, muddy and resting from his labours.

Mom and I.

SLO airport #whycanttheystaylittle

Would LA be LA without a little smog?

The Round Church from Bould Brothers Coffee.

Just appreciating my work place.

Monêtier-les-Bains, France.

Serre Chevalier!

Not even going to apologise for all of the mountain pictures.

In France (in the winter) (when skiing), I sometimes get up early enough to see the sunrise.

Action shot...ish.

One picture of that view is not enough.

Sunset.

Sandra!

Sophie!

Chris and Sandra -- gettin' married this autumn!

Chris made it his mission to visit every cafe on the mountain -- and pretty much succeeded.

Hot chocolate is best when half of it is whipped cream.

I do take credit for this picture.

Chris, Ally, myself and Sandra.

Stephen -- the rest of us still posing.

We got some serious snow near the end of the week, and skiing in the powder was awesome!

Alistair in action.

A little R & R.

Laura and Sophie and snow!

Not enough pictures of people actually skiing, but that's because we were too busy having fun.

Found while cataloguing books in the Christian Heritage library (note from Francis Schaeffer to Ranald and Sue Macaulay).

Jesus, thy blood and righteousness
My beauty are, my glorious dress,
Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,
With joy shall I lift up my head.

[Count Zinzendorf]

Addendum

I've realised that the quotes included at the beginning and end might seem a bit random. In the interests of context, therefore, the first quote is taken from the end of a book I read recently -- not my favourite by Graham Greene, but a challenging look at the way we are tempted to hold God and other people at a distance -- in essence, to flee from grace. The second quote is itself quoted in Being Human, by Ranald Macaulay and Jerram Barrs. I'm still in the midst of this (non-fiction) book, but am finding it so full of insights into God's grace and what it means to be fully human. Highly recommend!