The controversy over the Supreme Court decision on Burwell v. Hobby Lobby has been…well, hysterical, when you think about it. There are, for instance, otherwise intelligent people shuddering for the United States. It is unbecoming for a scientist to be reading tea leaves – principally because they aren’t any good at it – since it causes them to declare that a “theocracy” is afoot.

Of course the word “theocracy” only enters the conversation because it’s scary, like communism, and not because anything like a theocracy is imminently threatening.

Rather than dig into the case as one more bloviating layperson, I’d like to comment on an issue which plays into the discussion, which has plenty of application over and above SCOTUS.

Namely, there is a peculiar fear of religion, and a distinction of religion from…well, I guess the “normal” or “ordinary” way of looking at things. There is also the widespread illusion that science and religion are so different from each other that they are actually opposed.

Here I would like to introduce the notion of worldview. This is simply the way a person believes the world to be.

Is the world knowable, or not?  If so, how can we know it, and what can we know about it? Is there a God, or not? Am I the only one who exists, or do all these other people exist in the same way that I do?

If these questions sound philosophical, that’s because they are. One’s worldview might also be likened to one’s personal philosophy. What do you perceive to be the purpose of life, if anything? What is all of this for? What duties and obligations do you have, if any?

How one answers questions like these, then, determines (or is indicative of) his worldview.

It should be obvious, I think, that while there may be trends in the way people answer these questions (the ancient Chinese might answer differently than the medieval Muslims, who again answer differently than modern Latin Americans), there is not necessarily any neat, “standard” response.

In other words, there is not a neat, “normal” response from which we could say that religion departs. If anything, religion would have to be part of that normal response, given its ubiquity across space and time.

Now, let us usher in an interesting idea: Secularism. This, of course, is a lack of commitment to any particular religion, and a positive commitment toward the common understanding of the common good. This is such an alluring idea, in fact, that it is taken to be the “standard” worldview, from which other worldviews (especially religious worldviews) depart.

I would then argue: Secularism is not meant to be a worldview. It is meant to be a mutual agreement not to impose any particular worldview. In the same way, a recipe is not an ingredient – it is a description of the way the ingredients are meant to come together.

The fascinating thing – to this bloviator, anyway – is that in its refusal to impose a particular religious worldview, secularism has thus seemed very attractive to those who reject all religious worldviews – I mean, atheists.

In fact, many atheists have often been only too happy to wear the mantle of secularism, and many Christians have been too dense to understand the distinction: Atheism is a worldview, but secularism is not. (I do think, lest I hang too many of my brethren in Christ, that plenty of atheists are so fanatical as to miss the distinction, too).

The truth is, both Christians and atheists (and Muslims, and Hindus, and…) should be happy to wear the mantle of secularism – unless they have a better strategy for governing in a pluralistic society.

Or, I suppose, unless they intend to install a theocracy.

Now, critical to secularism, it seems to me, is the free exercise of religion; but let’s amend it, and call it the free exercise of worldview.* We should not leave the atheists out, after all, or they might claim the whole damned system for themselves and install an anti-theist-ocracy. (Don’t laugh…it’s been done).

Let’s ask the question: Is it right to impose on an employer (or anyone), and require her to provide for a product or treatment to which she is morally opposed?

Is it really in line with the idea of secularism that we should require people to act in opposition to their worldviews, so that other people will receive what is considered “good” within their worldview?

Forget for a moment that this was an issue raised mainly by Christians. Think of yourself, and your sincerely held worldview. Think of one particular action which you find morally offensive.

The argument is, can a society really be justified in forcing you to commit (or be complicit in) that action, no matter how “good” other members of that society perceive it to be?

Don’t be hasty. Don’t assume you’re cool with whatever. That is not the meaning of secularism.

The meaning of secularism is to provide a real opportunity for people of multi-various worldviews to live authentically within their own worldviews, while living in common with each other.

Government impositions on sincerely held beliefs are a sin in secularism. They cripple secularism.

And they necessarily favor one worldview over others.

*Whether this bears the spirit of the Framers is a fair and interesting question, but I aim to talk about secularism principally as a concept, and not within any particular historical context.

Last time I introduced the concept of permaculture (assuming some might not already know) and offered a sampling of Catholic teaching which fits neatly – some would say plainly – with the practice of permaculture.  Then I said some hopelessly optimistic things about living with Mother Nature.

This time, a start at implementation.

Most of the resources I’ve encountered seem to agree on the principles of permaculture, which are summarized here.

As the Permaculture Association has it, the first principle is “Observe and Interact.”  Other permaculture resources say likewise, and some recommend an observation period of at least a year, if not longer.

Ain’t nobody got time for that!  No, but seriously, I’m a 21st century American – who thinks I’m going to wait around after I’ve just publicly committed to starting into permaculture?  I’ll observe, alright – then immediately act!  What, am I supposed to be patient, and restrain my desires?

Almost took up an inverted soapbox there.

Fortunately, I have been observing, and for longer than a year.  Every time I’ve mowed the lawn, I thought how I would like to incorporate more garden beds, and how to arrange them.  Once we started a garden in the backyard, I noticed how the sun moved across it, how the wind blew, and where things would have room to grow or climb or drain.

According to my foray into permaculture, it was observation by accident; but according to purposes I already had in mind, it was sustained observation.

For example:  One technique suggested for implementing permaculture is an herb spiral.  There are even videos guiding the curious to herbal glory.

We Pluchars like herbs at the ready, and so I thought of two locations, and Marcy picked one – the more reasonable one, of course.  This is just outside our back door:

Foundation for our herb-phitheater.

Now, as to observation:  This particular location is on the south side of our property.  That white vinyl fence is on the south side of the frame.  That particular area – next to the heat pump, with a short concrete sidewalk and two pebbled areas – has always seemed hot to me.  This struck me immediately, from before we bought the house, and has been verified repeatedly.

I believe this is because our house and the neighbor’s (relatively close by – maybe 40′, with a fence in the middle) act as a wind block, the heat pump generates heat in the summer, and the sidewalk and pebbles absorb heat on top of that.  Even when the “weather” is breezy and tolerable elsewhere on our property, it is stifling in this area.

Furthermore, I believe we will modify the herb spiral, in favor of an herb amphitheater…or and herb-phitheater, if you please.

Weep at my raw talent.

The reason for this is that any herbs on the north side of a spiral would have precious few hours of sunlight – given the house sandwich.  Another drawing?

Therefore – I presume, at any rate – an amphitheater design will be more advantageous.

But where to find the building materials?

WTF is one of the TCG posting on permaculture?  ROFL!  IMHO, this is BQYE!

Yep, made the last one up.

Welcome to a new category, an informal series, meandering as it will through my family’s adventures in permaculture.

But seriously, permaculture?  On a Catholic blog?  Let me learn you something.

This comes as little surprise to those who know me, or who have any real understanding of the Catholic faith.  For a start, observe the confluence of these two:  Bethlehem Farm.  I spent a year on the farm, and another three nearby, helping people build and repair their houses and helping establish (what is now) a very impressive garden.

Bethlehem Farm is an explicitly Catholic community, and sustainability is actually one of their philosophical cornerstones.  They encourage organic farming, living in harmony with the seasons and one’s local climate and resources, and making every effort to live in a way which promotes giving (to others, to the Earth) over and above taking.

It is in giving, after all, that we receive.

And Bethlehem Farm is not an anomaly, but right in line with Catholic teaching.  The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, for instance, tells us that “caring for and cultivating the world involves…joyful appreciation for the God-given beauty and wonder of nature…” and “…protection and preservation of the environment, which would be the stewardship of ecological concern.”

The Catechism of the Catholic Church has it, “[m]an’s dominion over inanimate and other living beings granted by the Creator is not absolute; it is limited by concern for the quality of life of his neighbor, including generations to come; it requires a religious respect for the integrity of creation.”

Of course, you did not see the term “permaculture” used in either of those passages, nor is it immediately visible (if at all) on the Bethlehem Farm website.  Neither will you see the term “The Trinity” in Scripture, but it follows from what is written.

Permaculture, of course, is not the only …I beg your pardon.  Perhaps you are as unfamiliar as I was with permaculture, only a few sunrises ago!  Here you go!

As I was saying, permaculture is not the only way to carry out God’s command to “take dominion” over the Earth, but it seems to be at least one possible means.  Moreover, it seems to be a challenge given a suburban setting, which only motivates this writer.

And, it seems…romantic, to me.

In college, I was introduced to the idea that a good garden is the way man “perfects” nature.  Nature by itself, this view held, is wild and chaotic, and not particularly conducive to human needs.  In order to make the greatest use of the Earth, humans would need to cultivate it.

But traditional gardens – even suburban lawns! – seem almost comical to me.  I remember spending five weeks in the woods as a camp counselor, then returning to my suburban home, and laughing – heartily, without effort – for a minute or so when I first laid eyes on the clean and well-defined borders given to plant life.

There’s no doubt gardens can be beautiful – I simply find most of them amusing, like a dog wearing a sweater.

But to cultivate nature within one’s humble lot, to welcome her genius and offer a home to her lovely and untamed essence, and to barter with her evenly, as much as possible – now that awakens the soul, doesn’t it?

This is a cheap trick of the charlatan, but it is used because it works:  Forget everything you think you know about “mysticism.”  Let’s refresh our understanding.

A mystic is a person – you or I could be a mystic.  You might also call someone a winner, or a loser.  You might call them blessed or cursed.  You might call them a mystic, or a muggle.

Now, these pairs have been chosen because they relate to experiences a person has had.  No one is a “winner” until he wins; no one is a “loser” until he fails.  A person must experience blessings before we call her blessed, and must endure afflictions before we call her cursed.

One might now object:  “Muggle” sounds more like an innate property of a person, rather than an experience that person has had.  This would miss the point!

Alas, one may not speak anymore without a preponderance of intellectual speed bumps and stumbling blocks!  Say this about modernity – it is awfully tedious.

No, muggle, I was only being colorful.  I will now be technical:  You have your mystic, and you have your naturalist.

What, then, is the experience which the mystic has had, which the naturalist (at least according to his philosophy) has not?

For the Christian, it is really quite simple:  It is an encounter with the living God, directly or indirectly.

In the details, the curious naturalist can get confused, skeptical, even dismissive.  Rightly so, given his intellectual commitments.  But it really isn’t so confusing, and while skepticism is often a virtue, it is careless to be completely dismissive of mystical experiences.

On at least one front, I tend to line up with the naturalist.  I do not buy as mystical any kind of experience which is reliably induced, which fits neatly into a preconceived system of belief, or else which is described by terms meant to be profound, which have no clear meaning (e.g. “thoughts of light”).

Behold – my earlier complete dismissal of contemporary Christian music!

Now let the speed bump appear:  Ah, but it was not good to be completely dismissive.  Very well – I have learned.

While I do not necessarily endorse every song or effort from such bands, I have come to appreciate Jars of Clay.  I would commend to you certain songs from Third Day and Hillsong United.  And I would commend David Crowder Band.

Please note, I do not hereby commend the videos or comments to you.  Probably best just to listen.  Nor do I commend them as musically exceptional.  They are not, as far as I can tell, especially innovative or challenging.

What I see in them I recently noticed while listening to “How He Loves” from David Crowder Band (linked above).  I said to myself, “He’s had a mystical experience.”

What one notices in “How He Loves” is a concerted, desperate effort – like a man trying to paint a picture of his deceased wife – to express and thus, to share, his encounter with God.

The true naturalist can hardly guess at this.  It may seem to him that, because the mystic uses words which are intelligible to him, such an experience must not be so extraordinary.  Indeed, consider:

He is jealous for me

Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy

When all of the sudden

I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory

And I see just how beautiful You are

And how great Your affections are for me

To the naturalist – let us presume a humble naturalist – this is perhaps a little strange, as it suggests a powerful encounter with a non-existent entity.  The lyrics themselves, from the mouth of David Crowder, seem to be authentic and are perhaps charming in their style, though not what we might expect from a master of the English language.  The humble naturalist might back up my claim – contemporary Christian music is not all terrible.

Such a review is (quite precisely) condescending, but who can fault the reviewer?  Such a person imagines himself above the song because he can’t imagine himself in it.  After all, he has not had a mystical experience.

A fellow mystic, however, might find herself weeping at these humble lyrics.  For her, they are not merely charming, but evocative.  They call out, from the fogginess of memory and doubt, her own encounter with the Everlasting, with Love Himself.

She is not especially caught up in the literary value of the words.  She knows their authenticity is better gauged by their insufficiency, though they strive for all of the beauty and grandeur they can convey.  She knows that words will never be enough; one evokes the oceans because there is nothing else which is so vast and yet so immanent.  The sky is likewise vast, but out of reach; the ocean can touch every inch of her body, and swallow her whole.  (Says David Crowder:  “If His grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking“).

The mystic understands how God is like an ocean.  More importantly, she understands how God surpasses the ocean, and this is why she weeps.

Allow me one more note:  What about the one who is not a naturalist, nor a mystic?  Let’s take an “ordinary” believer, who simply thinks Christianity is true, but has not experienced the presence of God in any direct or astonishing way.  (This could be extended, in a way, to people of other faiths, but there is not space for that here).

Though I have asked the question, I reject the premise – there are only mystics.  It is the true naturalist who is illusory, established on a false view of reality.  No one is really a pure naturalist.

Perhaps not, you might say, but they would deny any encounter with God.

True enough, and now we venture close to that deeply troubled position of reading others’ minds.  I have no interest in that.

Rather, with respect to their minds, I invite them to consider these things.  Only consider the parts of your experience which defy physical explanation:  Why do you think anything is good?  (Is love good?)  Why is truth so valuable that you respect people who will sacrifice for it?  Why do you trust logic to sort out truth from falsehood?  (Does it matter whether a thing is true or not?)

Why do you wish to pour yourself out into the water when you gaze out over the ocean at night?  Why do you wish you could walk on water, or run without growing tired, or live forever?  Why is it that you can imagine sharing something better than sex with a person, but you can’t say what it is?

Loosen your restraint – follow for a moment, and see where the questions lead.

The longing is sincere, and ubiquitous.  A direct encounter with God is not required, only an answer:  Is there anything which satisfies these longings, or not?

The mystics answer in the affirmative; some have even tasted and seen.

“I gave my back to those who beat me,
my cheeks to those who plucked my beard;
my face I did not shield
from buffets and spitting.”

“My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
They divide my garments among them,
and for my vesture they cast lots.
But you, O LORD, be not far from me;
O my help, hasten to aid me.”

“…though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
something to be grasped.
Rather, he emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
coming in human likeness…”

“One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot,
went to the chief priests and said,
“What are you willing to give me
if I hand him over to you?”
They paid him thirty pieces of silver,
and from that time on he looked for an opportunity
to hand him over…

“Then he said to them,
‘My soul is sorrowful even to death.
Remain here and keep watch with me.’
He advanced a little and fell prostrate in prayer, saying,
‘My Father, if it is possible,
let this cup pass from me;
yet, not as I will, but as you will.’

“Then the high priest tore his robes and said,
‘He has blasphemed!
What further need have we of witnesses?
You have now heard the blasphemy;
what is your opinion?’
They said in reply,
‘He deserves to die!’
Then they spat in his face and struck him,
while some slapped him, saying,
‘Prophesy for us, [messiah]: who is it that struck you?’

“Then the soldiers of the governor took [him] inside the praetorium
and gathered the whole cohort around him.
They stripped off his clothes
and threw a scarlet military cloak about him.
Weaving a crown out of thorns, they placed it on his head,
and a reed in his right hand.
And kneeling before him, they mocked him, saying,
‘Hail, King of the Jews!’
They spat upon him and took the reed
and kept striking him on the head.
And when they had mocked him,
they stripped him of the cloak,
dressed him in his own clothes,
and led him off to crucify him.”

“And about three o’clock [he] cried out in a loud voice,
‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’
which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’
Some of the bystanders who heard it said,
‘This one is calling for Elijah.’
Immediately one of them ran to get a sponge;
he soaked it in wine, and putting it on a reed,
gave it to him to drink.
But the rest said,
‘Wait, let us see if Elijah comes to save him.’
But [he] cried out again in a loud voice,
and gave up his spirit.”

Or is it?

“And behold, the veil of the sanctuary
was torn in two from top to bottom.
The earth quaked, rocks were split, tombs were opened,
and the bodies of many saints who had fallen asleep were raised.
And coming forth from their tombs after his resurrection,
they entered the holy city and appeared to many.
The centurion and the men with him who were keeping watch over [him]
feared greatly when they saw the earthquake
and all that was happening, and they said,
‘Truly, this was the Son of God!'”

This is not merely the shaking of the earth, although that is impressive.  It is the shaking of hearts – the rocks that were split included hearts of stone – and this man dying between criminals convinces his executioners that he is the Foundation of the world, he is the very One sustaining them in existence, even as he dies; they see that he could have – as the shaking earth attests – laid all of the Roman Empire to waste with a single command (perhaps “Requiescant in Pacem”).  And he submits to death instead.

That you know his name, in spite of all of this , suggests that the conquest was of another kind.  Indeed, it is in your midst.

As I troll around the Internet, posting under my various aliases, igniting social unrest and engaging the paradox of “organized anarchy,” I stumbled across a reasonably civil combox conversation between a few atheists and a few theists.

Though not much ground was being gained by either side, I did genuinely appreciate the civility.  I appreciate when philosophical opponents can at least afford some measure of respect for those on the other side.

One of the atheists, after a while, aired a grievance:  He noticed, first of all, that many theists did not seem prepared to defend their faith at much logical depth.  He seemed to be implying – I believe wrongly – that atheists tend to demonstrate greater logical depth when defending their beliefs.

But leave that where it lies.  He noticed that, at the moment, these were not his “ordinary” theists.  These theists had a robust and respectable – albeit it wrong – position, a deep understanding of who God is, if He exists.

So the complaint:  Our atheist said that, while there was this seemingly defensible position of theism, most theists (I believe he meant Christians) do not have this idea of God in mind when they profess their faith.  Namely, according to him, most theists do not have a deep understanding of God as “being itself,” or as “the ground of reality,” or even what it really means to be omniscient and omnipotent at the same time.  They, instead, imagine some gray-bearded man in the clouds, some “super” being, some god significantly better than Zeus who yet (the atheist thinks) falls victim to the same criticisms that Zeus does.*

This state of affairs, the atheist seemed to say, de-legitimized the belief of those more simple believers.

I would like to respond to this complaint.

On the one hand, I won’t argue with his observation.  I do think the majority of Christians – and I could be wrong – have a fundamentally anthropomorphic view of God, that they have generally not thought about the philosophical implications of who they say God is, and what God is capable of.  As a theist, I find myself wishing the conversation about God was more robust – and behold, an entire series on the subject, 39 posts and counting.

But – on the other hand – my thoughts do not represent the height of all possible thought about God.  Most assuredly, far from it.  So, as a first response, I wonder what our atheist wants:  If all were better educated, and of greater intellectual capacity, and so they all had a deeper conception of God – wouldn’t he want still more?  If the average IQ were 150, wouldn’t he want a 200 level discussion, and bemoan all of the 125-150’s that he was seeing?

And even if he did – so would I.  But this is more a wish than a grievance.

So, on this first count, I think it is fair to acknowledge what is “good enough.”  That is, our atheist has some understanding of the world which leads him to believe there is no God.  Whatever that understanding is, with its attendant facts and inevitable absence of other facts, he has declared his understanding “good enough” to declare himself an atheist.

And I say – likewise, for the Christian of “lower” understanding.  Not all will have the depth of understanding of Augustine or Aquinas – perhaps no one else ever again.

Now, this may be enough to dispense with the complaint.  I suspect our atheist might dispense with it, given some kind of explanation like this.  But let’s go one further.

We go further, because there is something about the complaint which is particular to this discussion.  Let me give an example.

It is like evolution.  (Yikes!  The third rail!)

Now, just imagine that I have no position on evolution.  Imagine I have just woken from a slumber which began when I was seven, and now I am 32.  I am trying to get a grip on the world around me, our collective understanding of it, and most importantly, whatever is true.

Take that as my intellectual position, and let me share my (generalized, but real) experiences in asking about evolution.

I have asked those who readily – eagerly, with the salaciousness of an inquisitor – accept evolution, “What is meant by the statement, ‘Evolution is a fact.’?”

And they seem not to know.  It is puzzling, since this is one of the central truths taught to us in biology.  Again, I’m talking about adherents, not dissenters.  But among those I ask, there is confusion about what is really a fact – as in, something observed – and what is theory – as in, what we make of our observations, and what we infer from them.  And atheists may be surprised to know that it took a Catholic to clear things up for me.**

Now, certainly, there are professional biologists who really do understand evolution, and could clearly articulate the facts and the theory to me.  For them, there is not the same confusion as there is among laymen.  I just don’t know them personally – or I’ve been asking the wrong people.

So, let’s tie this together…

If I were to complain that none of the evolutionists I know really understands evolution, and therefore evolution is an inferior belief – this only takes me so far.  It is the very fact that there are professional evolutionary biologists, who possess a clear and deep understanding of evolution, that should silence my complaint.  Whatever they say – the professionals, the ones who understand evolution deeply – is what I should deliberate upon.

Our atheist wants to say that some Christians are unsophisticated in their belief.  And so they are.

But that is no defeater for Christianity.  One must reckon with giants – Aquinas, Augustine, Anselm, just to mention the A’s – before he dismisses the faith as so much rubbish.

…But wait…we can go another one furtherer…

I have sometimes been met with the opposite objection, which is a peculiar thing to behold.  To paraphrase an atheist friend:  “You have obviously thought a great deal about this, and you have worked these things out over a long period of time.  But what about those who are not as smart, who have not thought about it as much, who have not worked out all of the details – how are they supposed to arrive at the same conclusions?”

That is odd, isn’t it?  The first atheist uses the unsophisticated as a low water mark, to suggest faith is untenable because it is sometimes intellectually shallow; the second sees the faith is tenable, but worries that the unsophisticated may sink rather than swim in these deep waters.

And I would answer:  You don’t have to know that air is lighter than water.  You just have to see what floats.

That is, the unsophisticated Christian can sense God, can rudely understand His requisite attributes, can appreciate – sometimes better than the sophisticated Christian – what an awesome and awful thing it is to encounter God.

The sophisticated Christian wants to understand how vision works; the unsophisticated simply sees.  That he fails to understand the mechanics of vision does not refute the fact that he can see, nor the one whom he sees.^

*But oh, holy Zeus, not this nonsense of “We go one god further” anymore.  Hearing this makes me think the speaker still can’t color inside the lines.

**But this should not be surprising at all, since the Church has declared that the Truth is one, and that scientific truth cannot contradict theological truth, and vice versa.  The stance, properly, is that a scientific truth is what it is, and theological truth is what it is, and they only overlap in the sense that the scientific truth is a kind of program God has drafted in order to establish the world we live in.  The corollary would be like thinking a “story truth” could somehow disprove the existence of the author.

^I know there are some friendly atheists who may read this, and I want to offer an addendum in a follow-up post.