Should we have children?

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

I have a friend who wants to have children. She is in the midst of deep conversation over this. Her husband says he does not want children - he says it will be like a death sentence to have a child. How do they decide? What factors go into the decision to have a child?

Peter Singer, chair of the Department of Philosophy at Princeton University, recently stirred up quite a bit of emotion with his blog “Should This Be the Last Generation?” (See http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/06/should-this-be-the-last-generation/). He presents the arguments of another philosopher who basically says, we should stop reproducing because it is better to have never existed than to have lived this life which has so much pain and suffering.

Let me repeat that: It is better to have never existed than to have lived because there is so much pain and suffering. The fleeting happiness we do experience is not worth the living of a life.

Singer is a utilitarian philosopher. He claims not to be a classic utilitarian philosopher because it’s not just about how much happiness he accrues. Rather his utilitarianism is one that asks what action creates the greatest good for all sentient beings, with the least harm. However, at bottom, “because it makes me happy” is basically why he says ‘yes’ - his children and grandchildren make him happy. They lead relatively happy lives.

Chuck Colson, member of the board of trustees of GCTS, wrote a column in the August edition of Christianity Today, “The Lost Art of Commitment.” Colson is commenting on the radical individualism of our culture that defines meaning in terms of personal happiness. Since the 1960s and 70s, a new generation has arisen that does not make commitments. That generation includes many who have no sense of community or social obligation, who live in a world perceived as lacking meaning. Colson cites Robert Bella as calling this “‘ontological individualism,’ the belief that the individual is the only source of meaning.” But Colson notes, instead, that life’s meaning is really found in relationship - with God and with each other, and this requires commitment. He writes, in exact opposition to what Peter Singer asserts, that “by abandoning commitment, our narcissistic culture has lost the one thing it desperately seeks: happiness. Without commitment, our individual lives will be barren and sterile. Without commitment, our lives with lack meaning and purpose. After all, if nothing is worth dying for . . . then nothing is worth living for” (emphasis added).

“Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (I Cor 10:31). If God is our source of meaning, then this is the reason for our choices. To have children is an act of faith that God is still on his throne and sovereign over all creation. To have children is an act of hope that God is still watching and caring, and redeeming the world. To have children is an act of love that God has made the two one flesh and blessed that union.

This does not make our lives easier or simpler, or give us any guarantees. I don’t know what my friends will decide about children. I pray for them as they wrestle through their decision. It is painful to watch them struggle with this decision. I myself do not have children, not by choice. But since my life is about glorifying God, not my personal happiness, then I believe my childlessness is a part of his plan for me. Sometimes, this means I hold on to “God is sovereign and God is good” and look for his meaning in this. I cling to the Scripture that says all things work together for good to those who love God, who are called according to his purpose, even if I can’t understand how right now. Jesus showed us that we are worth dying for, and that makes our lives worth living. Period. So, should we have children? That decision, as all decisions for us as children of God, should flow out of this truth, rather than some individualistic computation of personal happiness. “You are worthy, O Lord our God, to receive glory and honor and power. For you created all things, and they exist because you created what you pleased.” (Rev 4:11, NLT).

A Clod, and Unknowing

By Sean McDonough, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament

I went into the Montreal Museum of Modern Art (more properly le Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal) in a positive frame of mind. Sure, some of the pieces might be perplexing, and at times I might wonder whether the proverbial roomful of monkeys (armed with brushes rather than typewriters) might produce a more interesting product, but there could be some very interesting stuff in there as well. Entry that evening was free, so I figured I did not have much to lose.

The results were mixed. At the risk of revealing myself as a bourgeois clod, I found much of the material rather pointless. A hanging video monitor shows a woman’s face; the colors change every so often. That was pretty much it, but from the description on the wall (I will spare you the tortured postmodern prose) you would think she had precipitated a quantum leap in human consciousness. It is bad enough to look at a piece and think, “I could have done this.” It’s worse when your next thought is, “But why would I want to?” Tedium and self-indulgence hung over most of the exhibits.

But not all. The highlight was an extended look at the works of the Québécois artist Paul-Émile Borduas. It was encouraging to see from his early works that Borduas was fully capable of doing what many of us would consider art: representation of natural scenes, still-lifes, and so on. I suppose most of the artists on display in the museum have similar talents. But without the evidence on display in front of you, there is always the lingering suspicion that some of them really might be talentless hacks bluffing their way to fame. There was no such concern with Borduas.

This naturally gave me a more sympathetic approach to his later, more abstract works. He had clearly done these pieces for a reason. The most striking of his later works was Translucidité. You can view the picture here (http://amica.davidrumsey.com/luna/servlet/detail/AMICO~1~1~96423~220818:Translucidit%C3%A9?qvq=w4s:/what/Paintings/Huile+sur+toile/;lc:AMICO~1~1&mi=30&trs=229), though the image does not capture the intense textures of the work, the violent ridges of white paint that cut into the colored portions. I loved looking at it.

As for what it means, that of course is almost entirely subjective. But I saw it as a painting trying to struggle out from behind a white cloud of unknowing – a cloud that not only obscured whatever was back there, but twisted it as well, so that only the slightest hint of the “original” painting could be glimpsed.

As such, it struck me as a moving metaphor for what life is often like: for the ideas we can’t quite express, the relationships we don’t quite understand, the ambitions we can’t quite realize. As Christians, we may believe in Absolute Truth. But that hardly means we know that Truth absolutely, nor that we can adequately express what we do know. Is this postmodernism? I don’t think so, since it was the apostle Paul himself who said that in this present age we see through a glass dimly. Borduas helps us to at least see that truth clearly, and beautifully.

The Centre for Public Christianity: Communicating Christian Perspectives in Clear and Compelling Ways

By Roy Ciampa, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament

I’m writing this from Sydney, Australia, where I will be participating in the Moore Theological College conference on “The Wisdom of the Cross: Exploring 1 Corinthians.” Today, however, I had the special treat of going to the offices and studio of the Centre for Public Christianity (also known here as CPX) here in Sydney, where they interviewed me on the topics of Paul’s approach to sexual ethics in 1 Corinthians and on issues in Bible translation. For the former topic we did a longer audio interview to be posted as a pod-cast (and possibly a radio bit) and a shorter video interview to be posted online. On the subject of Bible translation we just did a couple of video pieces.

I must say I am very impressed with the work of CPX. They have put together quite nice library of audio, video and print pieces on a wide range of topics of interest to Christians and non-Christians alike. Their key categories are Christianity, Society & Politics, The arts, World Religions, Science & Religion, Ethics, History, and Big Questions.

The folks at CPX are an impressive and gifted group who are committed to articulating the Christian worldview and its implications in a way that is clear and (hopefully) compelling to modern listeners of various stripes. And for their efforts they have gained a reputation with some key media outlets here in Australia as being the key go-to people for getting the/a contemporary Christian perspective on whatever issue comes to their attention.

I encourage you to take a look at the resources available through CPX and to think about how they might be used in your ministry context, and how they might serve as a model for our own challenges in reflecting upon and communicating the implications of the gospel message for the issues of our days.

I think we need a ministry like CPX in North America. In the meantime I give thanks for the example they have set for the rest of us!

Rifles against Armored Tanks

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

This summer, I taught Research Methods and Design to counseling students. I love teaching this course. One reason, of course, is that I spent several decades of my life in full-time research and I enjoy thinking about research methodology and sharing it with others. The other reason I love teaching this course, however, is the obvious impact that it has on students. Every semester, one (if not more) student tells me how taking this course has affected them: “I used to just read articles and believe what they said, but now I find myself asking ‘Is this true? How do they know? Was this a well-designed study?’” That encompasses my goals for the students in this course: to learn to think critically and read analytically.

Recently, I have been reading Creed Without Chaos: Exploring Theology in the Writings of Dorothy L. Sayers by Laura Simmons. Dorothy Sayers is one of my favorite authors. In a chapter on Sayers’ theology of language, Simmons quotes from a book I have not read, The Lost Tools of Learning, which speaks to Sayers’ thoughts on education and propaganda. This book was written in 1948, and Sayers was very mindful of propaganda and its effects during World War II, and was concerned about the implications for the future of society. She wrote:

For we let our young men and women go out unarmed, in a day when armour was never so necessary. By teaching them all to read, we have left them at the mercy of the printed word. By the invention of the film and the radio, we have made certain that no aversion to reading shall secure them from the incessant battery of words, words, words. They do not know what the words mean; they do not know how to ward them off or blunt their edge or fling them back; they are prey to words in their emotions instead of being the masters of them in their intellects. We who were scandalized in 1940 when men were sent to fight armoured tanks with rifles, are not scandalized when young men and women are sent into the world to fight massed propaganda with a smattering of “subjects”; and when whole classes and whole nations become hypnotized by the arts of the spellbinder, we have the impudence to be astonished.

I find this to be a remarkable observation. It has been my earnest desire for Christians to have a well-developed, self-conscious theology and worldview, and to be able to “always be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give an account of the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15). Dorothy Sayers point is well taken: in order to resist the distortions with which we are constantly bombarded in the media, as well as to be able to present a winsome argument for our faith, we must be able to reason well, think critically, and craft our words effectively. This is not something with which we are born or develop merely because we acquire language. This takes effort, study, and sometimes struggling to understand and analyze an argument.

When my students begin the Research Methods and Design course, they are generally not happy with the prospect of reading all those research articles I assign, and trying to critique them to my satisfaction. Inevitably, however, by the end of the course, they are excited about their new capacities to think critically and analyze what they read. This is my gift to them: they are not facing armored tanks with rifles anymore. They have armored tanks of their own. My prayer is that we all are concerned to develop the critical thinking skills we need to not only resist the bombardment but also to mount a positive argument for our faith in the One who is called the Word of God.