Search Results

< Back Determinism…or Entanglement? David Cowles “Take Vegas! The casino’s ‘edge’ is as little as 1% on some bets. At those odds, I should be able to play forever…but probability is not actuality.” “If we could know the position and the momentum of every ‘particle’ at any one time, we would know the position and momentum of every particle at every time.” This is the classical definition of determinism - and it certainly seems to make sense. Consider 'A, then B’ for example. If we believe that A ‘causes’ B, then knowing A means knowing B as well. But let’s take a deeper dive: There’s a problem with our premise, isn’t there? Turns out, we can’t know both the position and the momentum of any particle at any time (Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle)… that’s certainly a bit of a bother for determinists. Worse yet, this is not an issue with our ability to know A; it’s an issue with A itself! It’s not we who are ‘uncertain’ about A; it’s A that is uncertain. It literally can’t make up its mind what it wants to be for Halloween . A is an existential hero. It lives in a permanent state of angst as it searches for an identity that doesn’t exist! Determinism’s apologists (yup, it has ‘apologists’, Stephen Hawking among them) admit Heisenberg but marginalize him: it’s not X that is determined, it’s P(X) – the probability of X. Schrödinger’s Wave Function, simplified as P(X), evolves deterministically. We’re funny about math. We know it’s an artificial logic that incidentally yields uncannily accurate predictions about the real world, but we treat it as the real world. We mistake the map for the territory; we fall prey to what Whitehead called the ‘Fallacy of Misplaced Concreteness’. Take calculus, for example. Brilliant! Don’t leave Earth without it. But it has nothing to do with the real world. Calculus describes a world that is perfectly continuous…but we don’t live in such a world. Still, it is often useful to treat the world as if it were continuous, hence calculus. Take Vegas! The casino’s ‘edge’ is as little as 1% on some bets. At those odds, I should be able to play forever and never run out of money. But probability is not actuality . Probability doesn't prevent me from losing my life’s savings at the craps table, pulling out a gun, shooting 20 fellow punters and taking my own life. The laws of probability are indeed determined, but the stochastic consequences of those laws are not. Food processors are wonderful things; they smooth things out. But when you come to my house for Thanksgiving dinner, your mashed potatoes will be ‘real’, i.e., gloriously lumpy. “Glory be to God for dappled things…” (Gerard Manley Hopkins). We live in a chaotic world, a world in which a butterfly can flap its wings and trigger a tornado, a world in which an untimely ‘7 out’ can set off a mass killing spree. So now we’re face to face with our second challenge: A chaotic world is chaotic because it is strictly determined; anything is capable of triggering anything else. It’s causality ! But how is that any different from a world in which events happen randomly? Wings flap, dice roll, shots are fired, punters perish – these things just happen! What about the connections that seem to crop up between events? Well, what if it’s we who fabricate those connections - after the fact – triggered by accidental resemblances (Freud)? A is round, and B is round, so A and B must somehow be related. What if we make our world look rational…when it isn’t? So we find ourselves in quite a pickle. It makes no empirical difference whether events are determined, chaotic, or random. It doesn’t matter whether everything is caused by something else, or everything is caused by everything else, or nothing is caused by anything else. And you still say we don’t live in a weird world, Horatio? Clearly, the concept of ‘causality’ has no heuristic value. If we want to understand (1) why there are any events at all and/or (2) why events are what they are, we’ll need an entirely different approach. In our world, events are connected but indeterminately. Sometimes B follows A like an Irish twin; sometimes B looks a lot like the postman. We live this every day. “Nothing ever changes!” Until it does! And then, Whoa! Continuity and catastrophe – lumpy, that’s how the world is, not at all the way you’d expect it to be if it were determined, chaotic or random. The world is ‘patterned’…and that pattern is not just in our heads! Ultimately, our world displays solidarity, but not continuity. How can we model such a world? Every event is juxtaposed between what used to be and what is not yet, between what is actual and what is ideal. Without this differance (‘quantum of difference’ per Derrida), the world would be static (and hence non-existent). There would be no incentive, no motive force, for change; temperature could never be other than 0° K. In Norse mythology, the world comes to be in the misty gap ( Ginnungagap ) between ‘absolute heat’ and ‘absolute chill’. Likewise, in our mythology, events come to be in a ‘gap’ between what already is and what might yet be. The lure of an unrealized future tugs on the inertia of an unsatisfying past. Every novel event originates as a reaction against its ‘actual world’, i.e., the ordered multiplicity of prior events. Only one class of entity could simultaneously provoke judgment on what is and appetition for what is yet to be: that’s Value - objective, eternal value – the Good as it manifests in our world. And what might such ‘manifest values’ be? At a minimum, Beauty, Truth, and Justice. Every judgment reflects a valuation, and every aspiration presupposes a goal. But judgment, aspiration, realization, and communication are terms we normally associate with conscious (e.g., human) behavior. They are aspects of reality that resist characterization as determined, chaotic or random. Something seems to be buffering the chaos. Have we entered the controversial realm of ‘intelligent agency’, aka ‘free will’? Every event resembles every other event in some way and to some degree; the ‘resemblance’ can even be ‘negation’ (ground templates figure). But no two events are ever identical. In fact, the phrase ‘identical event’ is an oxymoron. It is as if events were sampling prior events as part of their process of becoming. We see the shadow of the past in the present, but not in a way that is ever perfectly predictable…or ultimately controllable. Ergo History . There is yet one more relevant model to consider: Entanglement. In the 1950s, quiz shows were popular on TV. In those days, contestants were sequestered in soundproof booths. Each would answer questions posed by the host, but neither would know what the other player answered. The same apparatus was used to test for ESP (Extra Sensory Perception). Instead of general knowledge questions, the host would draw a card from a standard deck of playing cards and ask the contestant(s) to say whether the card was red or black. If a subject were right significantly more than 50% of the time, ESP would seem to have been demonstrated. Entanglement is similar. After a Google of questions, a pattern is confirmed. If A answers X, then B also answers X… always ; or if A answers X, B never answers X. But there’s no possibility of communication between A and B. (In reality, it doesn’t have to be always or never ; any meaningful deviation away from 50/50 could indicate entanglement.) Entanglement requires no ‘intelligent agent’ to mute the chaos. An ‘entangled universe’ is neither causal nor random, yet events are coordinated, and that coordination does not require conscious intervention. When two apparently exclusive theories (e.g., intelligent agency and entanglement) account equally well for the same phenomena, it is wise to ask whether the two theories (as ‘Big Chill and Big Crunch’ per Roger Penrose) might actually be the same theory in different guises. Failing that, we should inquire whether the two explanations are complementary (e.g., particles and waves). Can you see where this is going? Well, Bon Voyage! Better you than me. Write to me, though; let me know what the world’s like…once you’ve gone over the edge. David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com . Click above to return to Winter 2024. Previous Next

“A bond exists between us that unites who Jesus is essentially with who I am existentially. I change with every breath; Jesus never changes.” < Back Jesus Gets Us! David Cowles Dec 1, 2024 “A bond exists between us that unites who Jesus is essentially with who I am existentially. I change with every breath; Jesus never changes.” There is an ad running on TV these days that includes the tag line, “Jesus, he gets us!” And so he does; but how? Jesus forms a perfect bond, a template, with each of us. Without undergoing any change himself, Jesus makes a unique version of himself available to every subject (e.g. you and me). Jesus templates us, and as we will see shortly, he is ‘template’ per se . Or, to paraphrase St. Francis, “It is in being for all that he is one.” Jesus Christ is the second person of the Trinity, called the Son . Children do not choose their parents; they bond with them. With more or less fidelity (Jesus is 100% faithful) every child templates its parent(s). There is no better image of this than the ‘babe at breast’ and we see Jesus depicted as such in many Christian works of art. Ontologically, Jesus templates his Father. The relationship between the Father and the Son, i.e. the Spirit, is the paradigmatic relationship. But because it is Jesus’ essential character (Sonship) to template, Jesus templates whatever he encounters, beginning with his Father but extending to each of us. Christians see in Jesus Martin Buber’s eternal, universal Thou. Of course, every actual entity is specific and unique; but the template itself, to the extent that it is a faithful template, is the same in every case. So it is because Jesus forms a unique bond with everyone that he himself is unchanging. In Jesus, plasticity = identity. It is in being all that he is one. Of course, templating with Jesus is not accidental; it is ontological and genealogical: “Through him all things were made.” (John 1: 3) It is only because Jesus is that you are; for you, Jesus is the divine other, the perfect template. Like Buber’s Thou , Christ is universal and eternal as well as intensely personal. From our perch in spacetime, ‘relata’ precedes relationship; but from God’s perspective, outside of spacetime, relationship precedes relata. Actual entities are first and foremost relational. I am because you are: no you, no me, no He, no thee! Dear reader, you and I have a relationship. We touch each other in a single region of spacetime, i.e. the time and space it takes for me to write and you to read this post. My spouse and I have known each other for more than 50 years. We are ‘tangent’ over a much larger region; but even that is a postage stamp compared to the extent of our relationship with Jesus, the one eternal Thou present in every You . Jesus remakes himself for each of us. In that way Jesus never changes. He is the same in relation to me as he is in relation to you and yet he is unique to each of us. “And yet…”? No, “And so…” We both encounter the exact same Jesus; but we encounter him in two different ways. Each of us knows Jesus differently, i.e. personally, even though he himself is exactly the same, i.e. universal, for everyone: X : A :: X : B, C, D… Jesus is ‘the one who templates all others’, Father first! This resolves the so-called ‘Scandal of Particularity’ – “If God, the creator of heaven and earth, is incarnate in creation, why in first century Palestine on the 3rd rock from our Sun?” The traditional ‘solution’ to this dilemma is simply “Why not?” Things have to happen ‘some where and some when’ but according to Einstein, every ‘where and when’ is just like every other ‘where and when’, so it doesn’t matter when or where something happens; it is as if it happened every where and every when: Some where/when = any where/when = every where/when. But this argument is as dissatisfying as it is incontrovertible. The formula presented here would elevate why not to of course . In fact, the Incarnation had to occur ‘somewhere, some when’ to be real but it could have been anywhere, any when. Jesus templates me . A bond exists between us that unites who Jesus is essentially with who I am existentially. I change with every breath (Heraclitus) ; Jesus never changes (Parmenides). Is this the deeper meaning of the Musketeers’ “All for one and one for all”? Jesus is ‘all for my one’ and ‘one for us all’. It’s not that there are 8 billion Jesus on Earth today. There is only one, now or ever, here or anywhere. Jesus does not come in parts. Unlike a shared pizza, there is no ‘my slice, your slice’; each of us gets a whole pie but…and it’s the same pie for everyone. This is Loaves and Fishes on steroids. One pie feeds one, one pie feeds all! Once or twice a year, I get to enjoy the world’s greatest pizza, not in Napoli or Palermo, but in Randolph MA, at the Lynwood Café. On such occasions, ‘private property’ loses all meaning; the concept is unmentionable. Like Jesus’ disciples in the early Church, we enjoy all our goods in common. Nor is there any risk of shortage. As soon as someone imagines a new flavor combo, it is ordered and on its way to our table. At $12.00 per pie, we are restricted only by the depth of our imaginations, and the size of our stomachs, and not thankfully by the size of our bank accounts. Surely, this is a foretaste of Heaven! This relatively mundane theological speculation has transformative implications for cosmology and anthropology. The Second Person of the Trinity is a singularity. Jesus’ event horizon consists of ‘information’ that perfectly complements the information content of every tangent entity. There is no ‘right Jesus’ or ‘wrong Jesus’, but there is ‘my Jesus’ and ‘your Jesus’; both of course, are the ‘same Jesus’. Objectively, there is one Jesus, but subjectively, Jesus manifests uniquely for everyone. Our relationship with Jesus tips us off that there is more to reality than a 4 dimensional continuum. We are not just nodes in a social web. Each of us has a straight line connection to the singularity at the heart of Being itself (God). This gives new meaning to the 2nd half of the Great Commandment (“Love your neighbor as yourself”). How is it that my neighbor is also myself? There are two approaches to this question, both rooted in models taken from Structuralism. The experience of being-in-the-world is the same for everyone (who is in the world). Therefore, your being-in-the-world and my being-in-the-world are functionally and objectively equivalent, despite their accidental and subjective differences. Neither of our vantages deserves to be treated preferentially; therefore, our experiences are denotatively identical though connotatively unique. Everyone undergoes the same ‘childhood’, though no two childhoods are the same. The second approach may be more satisfying. Jesus actually forms a perfect template with you and a perfect template with me. Therefore, you and I must potentially form a perfect template with each other. This is a more familiar mathematical relation: If A = B and A = C, then A = C. The standard model of cosmogenesis is incredibly complex and arcane. Every day we have to adjust it to account for new data. The Christian model is a bit simpler: “Through him (Jesus) all things were made.” (John 1: 3) Where is Occam when we need him? David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at dtc@gc3incorporated.com . Return to Yuletide 2024 Share Previous Next Click here. Do you like what you just read? Subscribe today and receive sneak previews of Aletheia Today Magazine articles before they're published. Plus, you'll receive our quick-read, biweekly blog, Thoughts While Shaving. Subscribe Thanks for subscribing! Return to Table of Contents, Winter 2023 Issue Return to Table of Contents, Holiday Issue Return to Table of Contents, Halloween Issue Return to Table of Contents, Fall Issue Return to Table of Contents, Beach Issue Return to Table of Contents, June Issue

< Back Vittorio Bufacchi Contributing Writer Vittorio Bufacchi is Senior Lecturer in Philosophy at University College Cork, Ireland. His main research interests are in contemporary political philosophy, especially theories of social justice; human rights; political violence; and the idea of injustice. He has also published in the methodology of applied philosophy; rational choice theory; democratic theory; socialism; Jane Austen; and Italian politics. His book 'Everything Must Change: Philosophical Lessons From Lockdown' was published by Manchester University Press in 2021. He is also the author of 'Violence and Social Justice' (Palgrave) and 'Social Injustice' (Palgrave). Twitter: @BufacchiV Lord of the Flies Shows Humans Are Hard-Wired to Help Each Other

< Back Pronouns David Cowles Next time someone asks you for your ‘pronouns,’ try telling them, ‘you/you’…see what happens. I hadn’t thought much about the English language pronouns since third grade; now it seems I think of little else. Suddenly, the lowly pronoun is uppermost in everyone’s mind, be they eight…or 80. For more than a decade now, ‘they/them’ has been gradually replacing ‘she/her,’ ‘he/him,’ and ‘it.’ If this trend succeeds, and to a large extent it already has, English will lose distinctions of gender (M, F, N) and of number (S, P). Apparently, ‘case distinctions’ (they/them) will be retained. I said ‘case distinctions,’ not ‘class distinctions;’ but wait! Will “they/them” make it into the boardrooms of Fortune 500 companies? Or will it become another one of the many markers we use to distinguish ‘us’ from ‘them?’ Eliza Doolittle was permanently excluded from the upper rungs of English society because of her accent, that is, until Henry Higgins came along and ‘fixed it.’ Thanks to the good professor, aided no doubt by the post-war ubiquity of television, accent is no longer reliable in the service of our deeply treasured, if much maligned, ‘snap judgments.’ Regrettable because there is no knowledge quite so satisfying as a good stereotype confirmed! I mean, “How am I supposed to know how to treat someone if I don’t know what social class they belong to?” It’s quite a dilemma! Well, you know, you’re posh . Will the pronoun war be co-opted by our social gatekeepers to keep old barriers in place…or even rebuild them where they’re worn with age and misuse? Only time will tell…but back to the task at hand. This is not the first time that our attention has been directed toward the lowly pronoun. 100 years ago, existentialist philosopher and Jewish theologian Martin Buber focused on the distinction between “I – Thou (you)” and “I – It” relationships, the latter appropriate for certain interactions with the ‘inanimate world,’ the former more appropriate to human relationships. Self-explanatory? But the problem comes when I impose an “I – It” structure onto an “I – Thou” opportunity. Ideally, my relationships with ontological equals will always be of the “I – Thou” sort…but of course, they’re not. Unfortunately, most of us do not have “I – Thou” relationships with our grocers, for example. Yet, most of us would accept the proposition that ‘grocers’ are our ontological equals. In fact, most of us today are comfortable with the idea that all (or almost all) human beings are our equals. This was not always so. Until very recently, in fact, it was entirely acceptable to consign other tribes, other races, other nationalities, etc. to an ontological level inferior to our own: “They’re not really human.” While the founding fathers were building a society “with liberty and justice for all,” they were also reinforcing the institution of slavery. In order to reconcile these apparently exclusive priorities, the southern slaveholders had to separate the concept of ‘slave’ from the concept of ‘all humans.’ Implicitly, or even explicitly, they dehumanized and reified their slaves. Slavery is a paradigm of ‘I – It’ relatedness. Commonwealth is, at least arguably, a paradigm of ‘I – Thou.’ But to quote the immortal Cars, “You can’t go on thinking nothing’s wrong,” and sure enough, 75 years later, the institution of slavery was on the ropes: the institution, not its hateful legacy. Reification is like skunk: once it’s in the fabric, it’s almost impossible to get out. Buber challenges us to expand the ‘Universe of Thou.’ It’s not just our kids, our spouses, our Higher Power, as many of us would prefer. It’s the guy across the street, the woman on life support, the homeless family…you know the drill. Implicit in Buber, and empowered by our reluctantly expanded collective consciousness, is the call to push the envelope of ‘ontological parity’ (or ‘congruence:’ I’m not insisting on pure equality here) beyond the species barrier. What about sea mammals? Apes? Pets? What about bees…and forests? I could go on. (“Please don’t!”) What do Hasidic Jews and Native Americans have in common? They both live in an enchanted world. For them, and others, the earth, the entire universe in fact, is ‘Thou:’ a living entity for us to nurture and enjoy…not injure and destroy. Sticking with Buber’s terminology, we have an opportunity to have an ‘I – Thou’ relationship with the Universe, through its creator and through each and every entity in it. But most of us don’t come close to realizing this potential. We take the so-called inanimate world for granted and guiltlessly rape it to satisfy our own immediate needs. We carefully cultivate plants and husband livestock, but only so that we can harvest and slaughter them down the road. Worst of all, though, we allow the poison of ‘I – It’ to seep into relationships with our fellow human beings, even those closest to us. 100 years on, I suspect that society is no better positioned today on the ‘It – Thou’ scale than it was when Buber started writing. And yet, Buber didn’t go nearly far enough. Traditionally, English has distinguished pronouns according to three ‘persons’ and two ‘numbers’ (singular/plural): I, me, we, us (‘I’ for our purposes); You, including thou and thee (‘you’); He, she, or it (‘it’). Both of Buber’s dyads begin with the pronoun, ‘I;’ but that ‘I’ is only stable as a placeholder, a catalyst. Implicit in the concept of ‘I – Thou’ is the potentiality for reciprocity. Of course, we all know about ‘unrequited love;’ but even then, the possibility of reciprocity remains, albeit unrealized. That’s what makes these situations so tragic. A fully developed ‘I – Thou’ relationship must also be ‘Thou – I’. A reciprocal ‘I – Thou’ relationship is really a ‘Thou – Thou’ relationship. In the context of that relationship, I am because you are, and you are because I am. We are two ‘thees’ in a pod. When I enter into an “I – It” relationship with another entity (human, sentient or otherwise), I immediately preclude the possibility of reciprocity. I have substituted an active voice vector for the middle voice resonance arrow of ‘I – Thou.’ The communication is all one way, and when I relate to an entity in a way that precludes reciprocity, then I make myself inert, I turn ‘me’ into ‘it.’ So, whether it’s ‘I – Thou’ or ‘I – It’, the ‘I’ is unstable in every relationship. As soon as ‘I’ comes in contact with any potential relatum , it decomposes like a subatomic particle into either a ‘Thou’ or an ‘It.’ ‘I’ is the still coherent wave function in Quantum Mechanics: it decoheres ‘on contact’ to become a ‘Thou’ or an ‘It.’ This is an admittedly ‘off label’ use of C.S. Lewis’ notion of the “Great Divorce.” We are all living in two worlds, not one. One world is a world populated only by ‘It(s),’ the other only by ‘Thou(s).’ While the two worlds are entirely coincident, they do not interact. They are ships passing in the night. Between these coincident worlds, there lies an infinitesimal, non-orientable membrane (called the ‘Sea of Green’ in the Beatles’ 1968 movie, Yellow Submarine ). ( Read "Yellow Submarine Part II" here. ) When we pass from the ‘It – It’ universe to the ‘Thou – Thou’ universe, we pass from Liverpool to Pepperland (in the movie) and from ‘this world’ to the Kingdom of Heaven. ‘Thou – Thou’ relationships, to the extent that we can foster them on earth, are a foretaste of eternal life. This is precisely the state of affairs we long for when we pray, “on earth as it is in heaven.” Challenge : Next time someone asks you for your ‘pronouns,’ try telling them, ‘you/you’ or even ‘thou/thou;’ see what happens and let us know. David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com. Previous Next

< Back Consciousness David Cowles Feb 16, 2023 “Consciousness is an agent of identity, a consequence of identity, and an expression of identity…” The idea of free-floating consciousness is absurd. Consciousness is not some sort of disembodied pseudo-substance, detectable (in theory and in practice) only through its various, otherwise inexplicable, manifestations. It is not a ghost in a machine (Gilbert Ryle). Consciousness is not inferred from data; it is the direct experience of data that includes the awareness of that data as data and the awareness of awareness itself. Consciousness is recursive; it is the ultimate stage in the integration and unification of elements in the constitution of an actual entity. Consciousness is an agent of identity, a consequence of identity, and an expression of identity – all in no particular order. Bumper sticker : Consciousness happens! It is a paradigm of non-linear, recursive, self-reinforcing process. Therefore, every actual entity, to the extent that it is, in fact, an actual entity, is conscious . However, the intensity and the subjective form of that consciousness varies widely from one actual entity to another. The idea of hard-wired consciousness is also absurd. Consciousness cannot be reduced to some sort of physical structure, e.g., a network of molecules or cells, but that is not to say that some sort of physical structure is not required for consciousness to manifest – it is! So, if consciousness is neither free-floating nor hard-wired, what is it? Consciousness is an emergent property of a nexus of elements; it is characteristic of certain patterns . It is a homeostatic behavior that accompanies the process of transition from mere multiplicity to actual entity. Consciousness unifies and identifies. Ontogenesis is an atemporal process. It is entirely unrelated to what we call causality (which is by definition a spatio-temporal phenomenon). Every nexus includes the entire multiplicity of events that it subtends. The nexus-stage of ontogenesis ‘orders’ the multiplicity so that it can function as patterned raw material for the emergence of a novel actual entity (event). In one sense, a nexus logically precedes the formation of an actual entity. In another sense, it is the consequence of that formation. Therefore, it cannot but be acausal and atemporal. In fact, it is the actual entity that determines the identity of the nexus, not the other way around. T-shirt : One nexus, one entity: one entity, one nexus! That’s ontological democracy for you. Think Three Musketeers : one for all and all for one! ( Theistic translation : God for us and us for God!) That’s Being . But again, it’s the actual entity that drives the process, i.e., that gives the nexus its character . It is as a nexus that the activities of the independent elements of the omnipotent multiplicity (think Aristotle’s ‘matter’, i.e., pure potentiality ) begin to align (think metal filings as they encounter a magnetic field) in the initial stage of the formation of an entity. It is consciousness, the homeostatic behavior of certain nexus (pl.), that is responsible for the phenomenon of identity . Identity in turn functions as its own engine of homeostasis. Once again, like every element in ontogenesis , this is a non-linear, recursive, auto-reinforcing process. Like terrestrial species defined by their DNA, all nexus (pl.) share elements in common. In fact, the elements of ‘neighboring nexus’ (pl.) are likely to overlap…massively. But that doesn’t mean that the entities that ultimately emerge from those nexus (pl.) will be phenomenally similar; far from it! I share 70% of my DNA with a fruit fly; it is my brother from another mother. 'Nuf said? Only an actual entity ‘creates’. ( Sidebar : Therefore, in a theistic ontology, God too must be an actual entity.) Only an actual entity can contribute both unity and novelty to the world. In fact, to borrow a construction from Keats, unity is novelty and novelty unity – that is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know! Bottom line : each nexus constitutes a unique ‘actual world’ for the emergence of a unique actual entity (or event). The process that happens between an Actual World and an Actual Entity is quite complex – too complex for this venue. (Check out Process and Reality – Alfred North Whitehead.) It involves values, objectives, feelings, choices, contrasts, etc. The culmination of that process is the emergence of a unique entity (event), adding yet another element to the vast multiplicity of events that are available to be ordered in a nexus so that it can function as an element in the emergence of other actual entities. Self-awareness ( aka consciousness, aka identity) is a defining element of ‘actual entity’ per se . Previous Share Next Do you like what you just read and want to read more Thoughts? Subscribe today for free! Thoughts While Shaving - the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine. Click here.

< Back I Wasn't Anything David Cowles Every day is Halloween…Every day I get to make the decision anew: who am I going to be today? When my world was still magical (ages 6 through 11?), Halloween was the most important day of the year. Thanksgiving and Christmas were great fun, and we benefited handsomely from each, but Halloween was our holiday. We got to make our own fun! Plus, it was the only night of the year when we were allowed out after dark, with friends, and, in those days, without any adult supervision. By the time I was eight years old, Halloween season stretched from October 1 through November 2 (All Souls' Day in the Roman Catholic Church and the day the candy ran out in our house). There was no time to spare. The logistics were daunting. Who’s in my wolf pack this year (for Trick-or-Treating)? What streets will we hit and in what order? And, most importantly, what will we be ? Now I am a grandfather 10 times over, and one day I made the mistake (sadly, one of many) of saying to a grandson, “I hear you’re dressing up as Captain America this year.” Crestfallen, he managed, “No Grandpa, I am Captain America.” I had forgotten! Choosing our Halloween ‘character’ (‘avatar’ today) was not a matter of putting on a costume for a few hours or experimenting with an alternate identity for a day. It was more like choosing, or being chosen by, a totem animal. Your Halloween character is ‘who you are’…until the next Halloween rolls around. “Who should I be?” That is the question! “And how should I be it?” Store-bought costumes are sleek and shiny, but they are usually made from some sort of plastic material that makes noise when you walk and has a faint chemical odor. A home-made costume, on the other hand, could be much better…or much worse. It affords more room for novelty, but that is tricky. How ‘novel’ do you want to be at eight years old? Plus, you’ll need Mom’s help, and that means surrendering some creative control. You’re eight; you’re not used to making life or death identity-determining decisions, and this is the most important decision you’ve made in a year; and it will be another year before you have a chance to do it again. There is no margin for error. And yet, I erred. The decision was of such monumental significance that I simply couldn’t pull the trigger; I procrastinated. Sure enough, Halloween morning came, and I was still not settled. Over breakfast, Mom nudged, “Do you know what you’re going to be yet?” And again, after school. Finally, around 4 o’clock I turned to her in desperation, “Mom, what can I be?” “Well, you could be a mummy. I could wrap toilet paper all over you and tape it.” I wasn’t happy, but it was too late to be anything else. “Mummy me up please, Mommy!” It wasn’t anywhere near as bad as you’re imagining. In fact, it was ‘kinda good.’ I hit the streets in high spirits, and everything would have turned out ok, except for one thing: after about an hour, it started to rain, not hard enough to disrupt our mission but enough to soak us to the skin. I’ll let you put two and two together. Suffice to say, I returned home at the end of the evening, a rain-drenched child with wet toilet paper hanging all over him. I couldn’t hold back my tears, “Mommy, I wasn’t anything!” I didn’t get over this disappointment quickly, and it was many years before I appreciated the momentous lesson of these events. The words still ring in my ears today, “I wasn’t anything!” and that realization, that experience ended up forming the cornerstone of my later adult thinking. (Freudians welcome!) “I wasn’t anything!” Of course, I wasn’t. I wasn’t anything on Halloween night; I wasn’t anything six months later, and I’m still not anything today. Neither are you, neither is anyone. The day I become something , is the day I no longer am . But it goes even deeper. What I am is precisely that I am not anything. Neti, neti – not this, not that! For human beings, being is a matter of not being what we’re not. Is this surprising? How could it be otherwise? If I truly was Captain America, then I wouldn’t be me, would I? And if I am me, how can I be anything else? I am neither Captain America, nor a Pirate, nor a Mummy. Neither am I an eight-year-old boy…nor an 80-year-old man! I am what nothing is and what nothing is. So… So…everything! On the one hand, I don’t have to waste time “finding myself” because there is quite literally nothing to find. But that reprieve comes at a great price. I am nothing, but I am nothing in the context of the world. In myself, I can be nothing, but I cannot be nothing in the world. If I were, then I wouldn’t be in the world at all, would I? So, it’s back to Halloween night after all. Because I am nothing, I am free to make myself anything I choose. My identity is not dictated by my genes, by my socioeconomic class (sorry Karl), by my upbringing, or by my education. “I know who I am, and I know that I can be whatever I want to be.” But with such freedom comes an awesome responsibility. I don’t have the luxury of living life on the sidelines. I cannot pass through life as a spectator. I see the world as it is, and I must decide who I wish to be in this world. I might choose to be a recluse, but that, too, is a choice, and being a recluse is still being something vis a vis the world. At eight years of age, there are three sentences that you long to hear:  “Daddy’s bringing home a puppy (or a pony).  “School’s out…forever.”  “Every day is Halloween.” Well, I never got a pony or a dog (strike one), and I did get a college education (strike two), but, good news, every day is Halloween. Home run! Every day I get to make the decision anew: who am I going to be today? David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com. Previous Next

< Back You Really Were Born for This Jade Baldwin "Esther’s journey from obscurity to influence exemplifies the profound truth that individuals are often placed in specific circumstances to fulfill significant purposes, even amid uncertainty and peril." Toward the end of the Old Testament is a book that is dissimilar from the others, but a dissimilarity that feels so purposeful it’s hard to overlook its reason for placement at that time in Jewish history and also its continued relevance in the lives of believers today. The Book of Esther introduces us to a female heroin whose story is vibrant with themes like destiny, identity, and divine providence. At its heart lies the compelling tale of a Jewish orphan who unexpectedly rises to become queen of Persia during a critical juncture in Jewish history. Her ascension, seemingly coincidental yet laden with purpose, embodies one of the most spoken verses of scripture: “Perhaps you were born for such a time as this.” (Esther 4:14) In reading Esther, one cannot help but wonder about their own identity, destiny, and God’s providence in their life. Esther's journey begins with her humble upbringing under the care of her cousin Mordecai in Susa, the capital of the Persian Empire. Following Queen Vashti's dismissal for disobedience, Esther enters a royal beauty contest and wins the favor of King Xerxes, ultimately becoming his queen (Esther 2:17). This seemingly fortuitous turn of events, however, is soon revealed to be a strategic placement orchestrated by a higher hand. As Mordecai warns Esther of the imminent threat to the Jewish people posed by the vengeful vizier, Haman, he implores her to intercede on behalf of her people before the king. Mordecai's pivotal words, mentioned above (Esther 4:14) resonate with the conviction that has been building in Esther, that her elevation to queenhood was not mere chance at all, but rather a providential positioning for a crucial task. This theme of identity plays a critical role in Esther’s story, particularly the discernment of when to hide one’s true identity and when to reveal it. Initially, Mordecai advises Esther to conceal her Jewish heritage (Esther 2:10), a precautionary measure that protects her in the Persian court. This act of concealment allows Esther to navigate the royal environment without prejudice, highlighting the complex decisions individuals must make regarding their identity in potentially hostile settings. It garners her trust among those who don’t understand her people. However, the necessity of revealing her identity arises as Haman's genocidal decree against the Jews looms large. Recognizing the gravity of the situation and emboldened by Mordecai's admonition that her silence could lead to her people's demise, Esther risks her life by disclosing her Jewish identity to King Xerxes (Esther 7:3-4). Her courageous revelation not only unveils the truth but also precipitates Haman's downfall. This moment underscores the delicate balance between prudence and necessary revelation, teaching that the timing and context of disclosing one's purposeful identity can be as significant as the revelation itself. A unique aspect of the Book of Esther is the absence of explicit mentions of God, which contrasts with other biblical texts. This absence, however, serves as a subtle marker of God’s authority and plans at work. While God's name is not directly invoked, His presence is palpably felt through the series of events that favor Esther and her people. This narrative choice emphasizes faith in the unseen, where divine intervention subtly shapes human affairs without overt proclamation. We have all been through periods where God feels completely absent; stories like Esther’s remind us that God is ever present even in the quiet. (Psalm 46:1) For instance, one pivotal example of implied divine intervention is the sleepless night of King Xerxes, leading to the discovery of Mordecai's unrewarded act of loyalty (Esther 6:1-3). This seemingly trivial incident triggers a cascade of events culminating in Haman’s downfall and the salvation of the Jews. The narrative's subtlety in presenting these occurrences invites readers to perceive the invisible hand of God at work, orchestrating events for the greater good. Esther's story thus becomes a powerful testament to the belief that God, though unseen, is always at work and actively involved in our lives. The narrative of Esther also highlights the importance of courage and faith in the face of adversity. Esther's willingness to risk her life for the sake of her people exemplifies the ethical imperative of using one's position and influence for justice and righteousness. Her actions reflect a profound understanding of her role and responsibility, illustrating the belief that individuals are often placed in specific circumstances to fulfill significant purposes. This ties back again to the banner of being born at a specific place in history for a specific purpose. Esther’s story offers timeless lessons on courage, faith, and the discernment of God-given purpose. Esther's journey from obscurity to influence exemplifies the profound truth that individuals are often placed in circumstances to fulfill significant roles, even amid uncertainty and peril. Her willingness to risk her life for the sake of her people highlights the ethical imperative of using one's position and influence for justice and righteousness. Moreover, the narrative's portrayal of God’s providence, though veiled, underscores the belief that God works mysteriously yet decisively for his creation. Reflecting on Esther's narrative, we are reminded of the enduring relevance of her story in contemporary contexts. It challenges us to discern our own moments of destiny and to act with courage and conviction when called upon to make a difference. Just as Esther stood at the crossroads of history, so are we called to embrace our roles in shaping a world where justice, compassion, and the creator’s great plan converge. Jade lives and writes in Siloam Springs, Arkansas, where she is dedicated to sharing the wisdom of scripture as it applies to the present. She leads engaging Bible discussion groups for the elderly, fostering a deeper understanding and connection to faith. Her work aims to inspire and uplift readers, encouraging a life of purpose and devotion. Return to our 2024 Beach Read Previous Next

< Back AI - Our New Frenemy AI and the Human Quest for Love AI - The Next Big Test of the Human Soul Hadassah Treu "The longing is powerful. Perhaps because this is the longing for unconditional love and acceptance with which every human being is born." When I grew up and even as a mature adult, I was fascinated by Isaac Asimov's books about robots. Asimov is the one who invented in his books the so-called Three Laws of Robotics. These instructions are not scientific laws, but they are built into every robot in his stories to prevent dangerous malfunctions. According to the first law, robots must not cause harm to humans or allow humans to be harmed by not taking action. However, the laws underwent an interesting development because the robots themselves added a 4th law, the so-called Zero law. In "Robots and Empire," the robots Giscard and Daneel devised a law that put the needs of humanity first before the needs of the single individual. The Longing for a Perfect Companion These books thrilled my imagination, and they also sparked a powerful longing in me. I was longing to have somebody by my side, somebody like "Daneel." The robot had a human-like appearance, beautiful and perfectly resembling a human. He was available 24/7 and possessed superhuman strength, intelligence, and access to limitless information. The positronic robot Daneel Olivaw was something between a superhuman and a faithful servant. Who didn't want to have a perfect friend like this? Asimov wrote six novels about robots and a lot of short stories. In these novels, he explores different scenarios of the robot-human society, whereas the ratio and the role of the robots in society differ. It is noteworthy that all robot-human societies developed dysfunctions, eventually leading to humanity's extinction. This was, for example, the case on the planet Solaria, described in the novel "The Naked Sun." A tipping point in Asimov's robot stories was when one robot (Giscard) gained telepathic abilities. Namely, he gained the ability to read and influence minds. From this moment on, he gradually took on the role of a god, changing events and decisions throughout society. In fact, he took responsibility for the whole human race! AI Is Our New Reality Nowadays, surrounded by artificial intelligence (AI) in our daily life and sitting on the brink of a technological revolution, I can't help but think about Asimov and his robots. AI is not a sci-fi fantasy. It's reality. AI is everywhere, and it has become an integral part of our daily lives; it doesn't matter whether we recognize it or not. AI is on our smartphones, the chatbots, and the virtual assistants, on social media feeds, not to speak about Alexa or generative AI like ChatGPT. But we always need to remember that technology is a tool. And as a tool, it is our responsibility how to use it. We can't define it as good or bad because it doesn't have a moral value, but we can use it for good or for evil. We also need to remember that even as a tool, this technology is extremely valuable and powerful. So, we have to train ourselves not only to have a balanced and realistic attitude but also how best to interact with this technology. The output we will get from our interactions is largely based on the input we are feeding. Most probably we will need such jobs shortly like AI whisperers and prompt engineers, fact-checkers (yes, AI can give misguided and untruthful information – remember the input!), and creators who will co-create with AI. But most of all, we will need some kind of ethical guardians and voices of the societal conscience who will spur us to act with integrity and ensure the proper development of the human-machine relationship. Is AI Really Our New Best Friend? Is AI like us? Why do we have such a longing for a relationship with artificial intelligence? Artificial intelligence is a type of nonbiological intelligence. Machines are given instructions to complete tasks using a set of rules. Because it's nonbiological, AI can be copied and reprogrammed and can be very flexible. AI has no conscience like human beings, and it lacks emotions, beliefs, and desires. However, research shows that even though machines and computer programs don't have sentience, the people interacting with them, give the machines human characteristics—like feelings, beliefs, desires, and understanding. This is dangerous because we begin to trust them and treat them the way we treat other people. This is exactly what happened in the robot novels of Azimov – the robot Daneel (although lacking emotions) was treated by the main hero, detective Elijah Baley like a human, like a friend. When we talk, for example, with a generative AI like ChatGPT, we can get a good imitation of what a human might say. However, we need to remember that AI lacks real feelings, empathy, or awareness. So we need to approach every AI output with an open but critical eye. Another substantial difference is that as a machine, AI looks back to gather information. Unlike humans, AI can't have visions, imagine futures and outcomes, invent things, or even plan. These are high-level skills that still belong only to humans. People are forward-thinking, and machines are retrospective. And yet… The longing is powerful. Perhaps because this is the longing for unconditional love and acceptance with which every human being is born. Disappointed and disillusioned on the quest for love, struggling with intense loneliness in an overpopulated world, where does the human soul turn next? A new study explains that robots with artificial intelligence can help fight people's loneliness. These mechanical companions could help isolated people by reducing the potential health risks that come with chronic loneliness. Researchers claim that interacting with a robot can have the same impact on humans as interacting with a person. So, companion robots can alleviate stress and loneliness and provide a promising "quick fix" to the problem of making new friends in adulthood. However, despite how promising this sounds, the issue with the moral and trustworthiness of such mechanical companions remains. The Big Temptation Are we tempted to treat AI as more than a tool? Definitely, yes. This is dangerous ground because AI has the potential to influence our theology and become our new idol. We should be careful not to become too dependent on AI but use it wisely and with caution. Part of this process is to admit the fact that AI influences us and even changes us when we use it. It expands our possibilities as humans. It opens for us new opportunities to live, work and create. So, AI is a powerful change agent. The question is, will it sparkle good and positive changes or not? Ultimately, it is our responsibility to use AI for the glory of God and the good of society. Perhaps you guess the end of Asimov's robots saga… The robots Giscard and Daneel chose to be humanity's saviors and concluded that the only way to help humanity advance was to break free from the robots. What was meant to be humanity's aid has turned into an obstacle. The strength has turned into weakness. The friends have turned into enemies. What they meant for good, brought evil. Is this where we are heading to? Hadassah Treu is an international Christian author, blogger, and poet, and the Encouraging Blogger Award Winner of 2020. She is passionate about encouraging people in their journey to faith and a deeper walk with God. Hadassah is a contributing author to several faith-based platforms and devotional and poetry anthologies. She has been featured on (In)courage, Living by Design Ministries, Thoughts About God, Today’s Christian Living (Turning Point), and other popular sites. You can connect with Hadassah at www.onthewaybg.com. Return to our AI Issue Table of Contents Previous Next

< Back Arithmetic David Cowles “I want to repeal all the fundamental laws of Arithmetic.” In the age-old battle between primary school students and their ‘minders’, we come down squarely on the side of the little Cherubs. Teachers never tire of drilling the rules of Arithmetic into their reluctant pupils’ skulls…even though Zeno proved 2,500 years ago that Arithmetic cannot adequately model any universe that includes motion . A pretty big miss, wouldn’t you say? Arithmetic may apply to any universe with ‘continuous structure’ (remember the real number line ?) but we don’t live in such a world! As Democritus conjectured and Planck, et al. proved, our Universe is quantized. “Whoa!” you say, “Calculus solved that problem.” And so we all thought…until Bertrand Russell showed that tacking Calculus onto Arithmetic doesn’t help at all. Both Arithmetic and Calculus are ‘non-physical’. They are useful tools for calculating certain quantities, but they are structurally inconsistent with the real world . They treat the world as if rather than as is …which is fine, so far as it goes: Euclidean Geometry does the same thing. That’s okay for most purposes. We make simplifying assumptions all the time. We treat the Earth, for example, as if it were a perfect sphere – it isn’t. Zeno could not reconcile the continuous nature of real numbers with the discontinuous (quantum) nature of reality. Neither could Stephen Hawking! But I have a somewhat different bone to pick. I want to repeal all the fundamental laws of Arithmetic. If I have my way, Jack and Jill will no longer have to hear about Commutative, Associative, or Distributive Properties, but I want to start my crusade with the Transitive Property (TP): If a > b and b > c, then a > c. Seems pretty innocuous, doesn’t it? Unless you’ve seen an episode of Doctor Who . According to the BBC, our wide but finite world contains a certain average-sized phone booth (or ‘box’)… remember them? The best adjective would be ‘cramped’; but inside this box, known as the Tardis , space is infinite: World > Booth (exterior) > Booth (interior) > World. Clearly, TP does not hold in the ‘real world’, at least not as it is defined by the BBC. Turns out, it doesn’t hold anywhere , no matter who’s defining it – all of which makes the 5 years kids spend in elementary school (US) ‘problematic’ at best. BTW, I pointed out this apparent anomaly to an avid eight-year-old Doctor Who fan. I expected, “Aha!” To my surprise, this bright kid just stared at me and shrugged. He was struggling to be polite. He did not see this as a contradiction. He was not yet TP-poisoned. He was still neuroplastic , and I am grateful to him for showing me the limitations of TP. Axioms (like TP) are funny things. They are assumptions, not subject to logical proof or requiring empirical validation. An axiom is falsified when normally intelligent people no longer see it as ‘obvious and incontrovertible’. An eight-year-old showed me that a ‘normally intelligent’ person can doubt the universal validity of TP. I’m afraid if I say that the transitive property (TP) is the root of all evil, you will stop reading this post, so I won’t. However, I do have (t)issues with TP. (No snickering, under 12s!) TP’s the very model of a modern ‘meritocracy’; it makes ‘hierarchy’ a fetish. I’m better than you, but that’s OK because you’re better than someone else – right? You were abused by your father because he was abused by his, but don’t worry, you’ll get even; you’ll abuse your own children someday too. Fair enough? The Untouchables is not a reference to Eliot Ness but to India’s ancient caste system. Fortunately, we don’t live in a world like this! To whatever extent the world is like this, we alone have made it that way. This is not the state of nature we inherited from Genesis…or from Jean-Jacques Rousseau. But you know that! How often have you said, “What goes around comes around”, and so it does. But then you go right back to teaching TP to your eight-year-old. Shameful! I propose we build a new mathematics, replacing TP with a new paradigm, the Circular Property (CP): a > b, b > x … x > a. CP describes a Chain of any length. The initial term and the final term of the Chain must be the same, and that term cannot appear anywhere else in the Chain. Whenever any initial term reappears as a final term, a complete Chain (loop) has been formed. Any term can be the initial term (or the final term) of a Chain - alphabetical order not respected. “Pick a card, any card!” It’s like that cool trick your dad tried to teach you when you were small. At the end of the day, every Chain forms a loop. Any term in one loop can be a term in multiple other, intersecting (tangent) loops. The fabric of the universe may be a tight weave of such loops: Penelope and the Norns! Weaving as Sacrament: the whole is represented by, and instantiated by, the part. Knitting is liturgy! CP corrects TP’s hierarchical bias. Imagine the social impact if we all knew that every subject is the ultimate object of its acts. Being as boomerang! No more child abuse, that’s for sure! Little crime, few murders. On the economic front, no more Class War. Workers win when owners win, and owners win when workers win! Instead of late-night bargaining sessions in smoke-filled rooms across from chanting picket lines and cops, negotiating teams will meet on the company lawn and sing Kumbaya – police welcome to join in. You’re chuckling. It’s one heck of a vision, that’s for sure. “But it’s not real,” you say. “It’s not physical.” Except it is! It’s entirely physical: Every action entails an equal and opposite reaction (Newton). Every action! Today, bleeding-edge scientists are working with a state of matter they call Time Crystals . In these event chains, time is effectively suspended (‘crystallized’). Process occurs outside of time. It mimics CP: If this sort of order is so natural and so clearly advantageous, why hasn’t anyone ever tried to build a social system around the CP Principle? Well, have you heard of the Lex Telonis , an eye for an eye? It’s an attempt to implement CP, but it requires a huge, unmanageable intermediary apparatus: a police force, a judiciary, and, of course, executioners willing to blind a man with a hot poker. What could possibly go wrong? Ok, then, how about the Beatitudes : “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” Again, what goes around comes around. Jesus dispenses with the administrative burden of a secular state, but he injects the process with his own intermediary, God. Christianity accepted God as the Uber-Omega but added back an infrastructure: Eschatology, Church, Clergy, Sacraments, etc. One can imagine Jesus, channeling Prufrock, “That is not what I meant; that is not what I meant at all”… or not, but that’s what Ecclesiology is all about. David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com . Click the cover image to return to Spring 2024. Previous Next

< Back Prayer for Restoration Hadassah Treu "I long to see the nearing restoration..." I need you in the ruins of my heart, In all the wounded, desolated places, Where darkness comes in as a flood, I need your tender, healing grace. Restore the ruins of my life Search out all the cracks and gaps, Invade them, filling them with light, Erase all paths to pain, all maps. I long to see the nearing restoration, To see it coming like the rising sun To hear it calling every ruin to alteration, Preparing them for the life to come. When all the broken becomes a space, Completely ruled by love and grace. Amen. Hadassah Treu is an international Christian author, blogger, and poet, and the Encouraging Blogger Award Winner of 2020. She is passionate about encouraging people in their journey to faith and a deeper walk with God. Hadassah is a contributing author to several faith-based platforms and devotional and poetry anthologies. She has been featured on (In)courage, Living by Design Ministries, Thoughts About God, Today’s Christian Living (Turning Point), and other popular sites. You can connect with Hadassah at www.onthewaybg.com. Return to our Summer 2023 Table of Contents Previous Next

Fr. Timothy Joyce, OSB, STL continues his regular blog, “Monastic Scribe”, where he reflects on "what I may have learned from all these years and what I am still trying to learn." Fr. Timothy notes, “I do not speak on behalf of Glastonbury Abbey, the Archdiocese of Boston or the Catholic Church, though I hope my faith is in harmony with all these. Any error in judgment should be credited to me and not anyone else.” < Back Fr. Timothy Joyce, OSB, STL Contributor Fr. Timothy Joyce, OSB, STL continues his regular blog, “ Monastic Scribe ”, where he reflects on "what I may have learned from all these years and what I am still trying to learn." Fr. Timothy notes, “I do not speak on behalf of Glastonbury Abbey, the Archdiocese of Boston or the Catholic Church, though I hope my faith is in harmony with all these. Any error in judgment should be credited to me and not anyone else.” Jesus Meets Mr. Spock

< Back Messengers Among Us Annie D. Stutley If God sent His only Son to earth, not just to save us from our sins, but because He knew how difficult it was for humans to believe in something we cannot see, why wouldn’t He still use that tactic today? Knowing our vulnerabilities, understanding us the way a parent understands their child, why wouldn’t God send us messages through people we trust? I almost died when I was seven-years-old. We were on a “Great American Winnebago Road Trip” through the Wild West — at the mercy of my scenic route-loving father. ( Link to that tale here. ) One day, we stopped for a picnic in a park in Albuquerque, New Mexico. To get to the shaded area and playground, we had to walk across a four-lane thoroughfare. Off my sisters went, along with Mom, then I followed. Pop took the rear. Maybe it was the anticipation of new, unexplored play equipment, or maybe I was just an impatient kid, but I took off like a rocket, eager to explore the unknown. I zoomed through each lane until my toe nearly collided with the white dotted lines of the last lane. Suddenly, from behind, I heard Pop yell, “Annie! STOP!” And I did. I stopped right there in the third lane just as a white pickup truck sped past me in the fourth lane, blowing my strawberry-blonde hair over my flushed cheeks. To this day, I’m surprised that I listened to Pop. I wasn’t exactly a contrary child, but typical seven-year-old Annie would have kept running, hollering back, “Why?” But that day I didn’t question, and my life was spared. I’ve wondered whether an angel held its hand before me, preventing me from crossing the lane. Others might say it was just good luck or that it simply wasn’t my time to go. While I do believe in angels, I don’t think it was an angel or fate that prevented me from being crushed by a truck that day. I think it was a messenger. Thirty-three years later, Pop scheduled meetings with three oncologists for his pancreatic cancer diagnosis. He had only been diagnosed three days when we walked into the office of a tiny, slender woman with a youthful, kind face. We met with her for half an hour, me rattling off a list of questions, and Pop quietly sizing her answers. She was sharp, yet sensitive, and told us the truth about Pop’s situation without adding any additional fears to those already wrestling inside us. When we left, I asked Pop what he thought. “She was good,” he said. “I like her.” “Well, we have two other appointments to go to,” I reminded him. “No,” he said. “We don’t need to bother with the others. Let’s just stick with her.” “Why?” I asked. “What if the other doctors are better?” “Because,” he said as I wheeled him to the car. By then, Pop’s mobility had already begun to deteriorate. “I think God sent her to us.” I couldn’t argue with that. He was the patient, after all, and also, I was accustomed to Pop proclaiming such prophecies. A deeply religious man, Pop often delivered bold messages to anyone, never concerned with whether they were a believer or not. If you had a headache, he’d place his hand on your forehead and say, “In Jesus’s name, be healed.” He talked openly about the Holy Spirit and how its power was the same as that which raised Jesus from the dead. To him, if we have the Holy Spirit within us, why can’t we pray over someone who is sick or proclaim that God sent us a doctor? Still, his quick decision bothered me. Then, when just a little over two months later, he passed away, his body never strong enough to receive any treatment but a couple of “last hope” surgeries (brought on by other doctors) and hospice, I really questioned the whole “God sent her to us” statement. How could God have sent us someone who did basically nothing? It was just two days after my cancer diagnosis when, while exercising on the elliptical, I heard my husband calling me from our bedroom. “I have the hospital on the phone,” he hollered. “They gave us two names to choose from for oncologists.” The first name belonged to a male doctor I’d never heard of before. But the other belonged to a tiny, slender woman with a youthful, kind face, a doctor who was sharp, yet sensitive. I figured these were the top two oncologists at the hospital because my husband was on the phone with the CEO. (In what can only be divine intervention, he happens to know the hospital CEO.) I also knew that I had never come to terms with Pop’s prophecy about his oncologist. It had haunted me for two years because never before had my father been so wrong about God. I simply could not see how she was “sent to us” if she was so useless in his case. My first reaction was to go with the name I didn’t recognize. It would be a clean start. I wouldn’t be haunted by ghosts of Pop’s cancer. And as I started to say as such to my husband, I heard Pop, as boldly as the day he hollered, “Annie! STOP!” Only this time I heard from behind, “I think God sent her to us.” So, I stopped. I got off the elliptical, which I never do mid-workout, and ran to my husband. My eyes glistened as I told him what Pop had said two and a half years earlier. “What if God sent her to us for me ? What if Pop unknowingly said those words because I would need her one day?” So we chose her. And when she walked into her office two days later for my first appointment, she looked me square in the eyes and gently said, “What you need to know is that you are not your father. His cancer was bad -- as bad as it gets. Yours is not. Any fear you have because of him, you need to let go.” I cried. No, I wept. She handed me Kleenex, and I snotted right there beside her -- ugly, ugly tears. Tears of relief. For the last week I had been tangled in a ball of anxiety because all my thoughts were of my father’s cancer -- the pain, the suffering, and mostly, the hopelessness that cast a sinister shadow on our hearts. My fears had shaken me to my core, making me unable to see clearly how much better I had it, how much earlier I was diagnosed, and how promising my prospects were. In that visit, she rescued me from the first tangle. I see this doctor every two weeks. We are becoming fast friends. She is just as kind and sensitive with me as she was with Pop -- an empathy cancer patients need. But that’s not why I now believe Pop’s prophecy. One visit was maybe only seven minutes -- the shortest visit I’ve ever had with her. The entire time she talked about my children, their sports and dance and what they were up to. She didn’t mention me at all. “Doctor,” I finally cut in. “What about me? My labs? My progress?” “Oh, you?” she smiled. “You’re fine.” And she practically waved me off. “I’m not worried about you.” So, I said, “Well, if you’re not worried, then I guess I shouldn’t be.” When I shared that account with my sisters, one of them said, “Oh! If we could only learn to say that to God every day!” The next visit, I told her that my mother-in-law was in town and that she wept as she dropped me off for chemo. “Why?” my doctor asked. “Well, I guess because it’s overwhelming to send your daughter-in-law off to chemo,” I answered. She stopped what she was doing and said, “She knows your chemotherapy is curative, right? You’ve told her this?” “I think so,” I said, but of course, I hadn’t told my mother-in-law that. How could I, when as strong as my faith is, I’m still attacked by enough doubt that I’m afraid to be so bold with my prognosis? What if I’m wrong? My doctor leaned in closer. “Do you know that what we’re doing is curative?” “Yes,” I lied. In the last conversation we had, we went over what happens in August when chemotherapy ends -- what the next five years of tumor marker tests, CT scans, and MRIs will look like. “How do you feel about it all?” I asked her nervously. “Oh about you ? I’m not worried. You’re going to be fine,” she said. There it was again. Another bold, promising statement from her, delivered with the utmost peace. I had been running toward the fourth lane since my diagnosis, disregarding any promising messages, but I finally stopped. It had sunk in why God absolutely did send us this doctor. The Bible’s pages are filled with prophecies from God’s messengers -- Abraham, Moses, Isaiah, John the Baptist, Paul. But did I ever consider what happened after the Bible was finished and sent off to the Random House of early Christianity for publishing? Did God suddenly stop sending His messages through others because, well, the book is done, and we can all just refer back to it if we have any questions -- the end? If God sent His only Son to earth, not just to save us from our sins, but because He knew how difficult it was for humans to believe in something we cannot see, why wouldn’t He still use that tactic today? Knowing our vulnerabilities, understanding us the way a parent understands their child, why wouldn’t God send us messages through people we trust? And why wouldn’t that message come from the lips of a tiny, slender woman with a youthful, kind face, a doctor who is sharp, yet sensitive? I know enough to know that there are angels among us, miracles are real, and sometimes when we can’t hear God, we hear Him through someone we can see and hear. “And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it,’ when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.” (Isaiah 30:21) Pop was God’s messenger thirty-five years ago in Albuquerque. And God, knowing the worry and fear I battle today, has sent me another messenger to silence that doubt, allowing me to once and for all trust God unconditionally and follow Him where He’s leading me. He sends messengers to you too. Maybe you are His messenger today. I recently read that prophets were once referred to as “Man of God.” Pop wasn’t a prophet on paper, but I think he came pretty close. Unknowingly, we chose the words, “Man of God” for his gravestone. Annie D. Stutley lives and writes in New Orleans, La. She edits several small publications and contributes to various print and online magazines. Her blog, " That Time You, " was ranked in the Top 100 Blogs by FeedSpot. To read more of her work, go to her website , or follow her at @anniedstutley or Annie D. Stutley-writer on Facebook. Previous Next