Scientific Positivism

"Lo, thou trustest in the staff of this broken reed, on Egypt; whereon if a man lean, it will go into his hand, and pierce it: so is Pharaoh king of Egypt to all that trust in him." Isaiah 36:6 (KJV)

Behind this prophetic warning is a moral. When we attempt to do anything outside of the will of God it is precarious and even dangerous. The role of divine providence in our daily lives is one that is easy to forget. Blood, at 98.6 degrees, courses trough our bodies providing warmth, oxygen, and nutrients, while simultaneously removing waste products such as carbon dioxide. But do we feel it? When we cause our minds to turn off of their normal course, we can see understand that it is true, but we will never live out this idea partly because we don't need to, and partly because it is distracting. Yet it has to be. Many things have to be in order for the universe to balance itself into the highly unlikely territory of existence. When we think on them, we know that its true that these mundane, very specific things must be, and we have faith that they will continue to be. It is only through phobias, and the all-pervasive anxiety of our age, that we might catch a glimpse of what it would be like to experience an uncertainty to our faith in a tiny fraction of this expectancy.


Yet the divine order we experience calls to us to not ignore the greatest thing about it. That is, that it is held together by the one who created it. And when we apply our minds to it we acknowledge the truth to this, much as we might like to believe in chaos, we cannot consistently do this. We may try, by sheer force of will, convince ourselves that chaos exists, but even then we must acknowledge that we cannot do this everywhere, but only in a very limited capacity. It is fine to talk about chaos at work, in the lab, or on paper. But it must stay there because we don't experience it. In order for this to work we must strip meaning from all that we can. But even the most ardent among our race cannot do this consistently. If there were no order, or only apparent order, then we would never know it. If there were only a bit of order, perhaps enough to get to work and back without pixilating into oblivion, still it would not be enough. And even if there were only half order, we would stand only a 50 percent chance of survival each nanosecond, and that is on a good day, with no other variables involved but the pumping of our blood through our veins. If there is mostly order than we fare little better, we still would have less of a chance of survival than we might hope: one random quantum particle could ruin it all. So the only ways to suggest chaos is to exaggerate the negative and unexpected and diminish order and meaning. This of course is the attempt of much of the publicity around contemporary science: Stripping all meaning that cannot be verified through the senses. It is also presented as though anyone who does not accept this is dillusional, ignorant, or cowardly. But these accusations notwithstanding, chaos limted to one small apsect of existence is not chaos. It is not chance either: unless we relegate all possibility to a bipolar disorder. Unfortunately unpredictability is unpredictable and not a cage match: all neatly contained within 'safe' limits. Tame, like a pet dog...and not a wolf.
But we must remember that is was not so long ago that the scientific model predicted very different things because it thought it had the answers. Society made the adjustment and was proven wrong in the extreme. Rationalism, or Scientism is not a reliable faith when taken alone. Science made the promise to humanity that if we would put our faith it it, it would prove a much more faithful companion and ruler that did religion. It still shouts at the gates to the city for us to incline our ear to its wisdom. But it provides, not wisdom, only data. When this data is interpreted by our rational minds, without any other thought being included, it makes nonsense. Hense affirming chaos to its adherents. However, when it still clings to vestiges of religion it carries a more seductive promise. When humanity saw that the call was clear and noble during the Enlightenment, and then turned its head around and saw that religion was in shambles, it made the leap of faith. But back then, it was a close call, it seemed the only thing to do, get out of a sinking ship onto the sure rock of empirically verifiable truth.


That was then. But when science brought with it mechanization and the clinical explanations of human behaviour, humanity despaired. When the control increased, and mankind kicked against the goad it only found the uncaring iron machine, cold to the touch and lifeless. But what could be done? Insanity? Escape? War! The only options available were all tried, and with disastrous results that deepened with each effort. Science brought good...but also bad. The knife cut deep, too deep for many, for it to be worth it. Yet science went on, promising that the wounds would be cauterized, and healing would take place. Yet its own certainty about the universe was wavering. What about quantum particles? What about dark matter? What is holding everything together? Why doesn't the whole bloomin' thing fall apart? Why...there must be another force at work...chaos, chance, stream of consciousness. The faith continues to our present day. There is no return to humanity, no 'meta narrative' no cohesion...except that whole bit about existence...


So let us be aware of our new technocratic king.

11 And he said, This will be the manner of the king that shall reign over you: He will take your sons, and appoint them for himself, for his chariots, and to be his horsemen; and some shall run before his chariots. 13 And he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers. 14 And he will take your fields, and your vineyards, and your oliveyards, even the best of them, and give them to his servants. 17 He will take the tenth of your sheep: and ye shall be his servants. 18 And ye shall cry out in that day because of your king which ye shall have chosen you; and the LORD will not hear you in that day.
19 Nevertheless the people refused to obey the voice of Samuel; and they said, Nay; but we will have a king over us; 20 that we also may be like all the nations; and that our king may judge us, and go out before us, and fight our battles. I Samuel 8

Grinding the Golden Calves

Idol worship carries with it the capacity to keep the individual spiritually complacent. It has historically allowed rulers to more easily control a population by giving them a sense of social, cultural, spiritual, and ethical (sometimes ethnic) identity and unity. By giving them an image to focus on, the masses are placated and obtain a sense of fulfillment. (Imperial Rome and Christian Triumph, Jaś Elsner p. 12) Once the image is produced and understood symbolically (by the left side of the brain), creative thought is stifled, and in essence accepted without protest. One need not think beyond the surface level reality to obtain ultimate fulfillment. This was the goal of the idols of yesteryear and also advertising today. But on a more subtle level the polygamous nature of postmodern thought has led to many poster-children for contemporary thinking. These ‘idols’ range from ecological preoccupation to prescription drug salvation. We have further traded Molech with Mutliculturalism as the altar upon which we sacrifice our children. These sacraments have led to subtle changes in perspective, even theology is often careful not to trespass many of these golden calves so as not to offend the deity of public opinion. Many of these issues are in fact commendable. After all, pollution is harmful, and psychological disorders are frightening. But the image we create to solve these neglected issues should not become the object of our fascination. The fascination becomes zeal and the zeal either becomes malignant fanaticism (as with Michael Moore and Rosie O’Donnell) or benign traditionalism. Notice the religious nature of these issues, once God is removed from life, the vacuum of human depravity insatiably swallows lesser gods through vain imagination.

However, God from the beginning created us both with the capacity for visual understanding and symbolic thought, but chose from the beginning not to reveal himself this way. We are allowed to find some fulfillment culturally, ethnically, morally, and socially through imagery but we are restricted from satiating spiritual needs through this means.

By limiting our experience of Him we are left to ‘find’ Him; meaning that we are not meant to simply ‘see’ Him intuitively, nor understand Him outside of a relationship. Our creative thought is piqued, and complacency is not possible. We are on a search, He has given us a guide, but no propaganda such as catch phrases, mottos, or images are really reliable and must always be abandoned and reevaluated in light of written revelation (in this sense we need to maintain only a light attachment to new catch phrases, mottos, and images). We grow when parables, historical narrative, supernatural interruptions, prayer and worship as well as everyday circumstances interrupt and break through our expectations to reveal a God who is very much alive.
The restriction of images and obligation to banish idolatry can, and has, led to an over application. This overextension historically has lead to a reactionary and unnecessary aesthetic within the church today. Be it the fear of pagan revivalism, idolatry, or loss of traditional modes, the distrust is apparent.

This is the milieu of many visual thinkers and artists within the church. We need to espouse an art that is not harmful arbitrarily thereby exciting the iconoclastic tendency, but that is violent in its emergence out of the comfortable idolatry of sentimental works favored by the church. Be it the meatiness of Rembrandt or the fragrance of Thomas Kinkade, the shell must be broken open to grow in honesty and relationship with both God and the culture. Striking this balance may not be possible in an absolute sense, but the struggle makes the work vital to its milieu.

Christian Nonobjective Art?

Image shapes culture and culture shapes the image, but what about the imagination?
Could it be possible for the imagination to be confined by this reciprocity? There are times in history when the past, the present, or the future is seen as of primary importance, little deviated from the path at those times, and the imagination was certainly restrained. But post-modernity makes grandiose promises of plurality. Everything goes, right? Well, perhaps not. The imagination is allowed to dwell on the past, live in the present or flow to the future, but it is still certainly restrained. It is restrained due to the fact that we are creatures, not the Creator, our imagination can only comprehend known things, even the most ephemeral mythology maintains a connection with nature. Nonobjective art is still tied to experience, the sense of beauty, the sense of design, order, shape, the grid. It is unavoidable, we are limited and must come to terms with that limitation, embrace our boundaries and find joy in this understanding of our place in creation.
This notion finds corollary in our limited authority over creativity and creation itself. Though God has given us all of His creation to steward, we do so with limitations Limitations not only imposed on us by our inability to create anything completely new, but also due to our relationship to creation, we cannot think outside the universe, except about God through revelation, or through ever-widening speculations. We imagine based on previous experiences, we can also imagine based on previous imaginings, and so on until the origin is obscured, but it is only an abstraction, there is no nonobjectivity.

The images used in this post are from a series I did in 2003, here's part of a statement that was posted next to this series whenever it was on display:

"The source of creativity is the source of life itself, and we possess, to a limited degree, this facet of the image of God.
Creativity, to us, is not the creativity of the Creator. We reshuffle, based on material experience, preexisting matter. But the process itself is an attempt at communication. The process itself is the content of my work. Through a form of abstract illustration the nature of creativity is questioned and the underlying structures lie open for the viewer to ponder. The results of this discovery are as follows:

1. Creativity consists of the application of energy, but it is not energy itself.
2. This force is additive, but not necessarily progressive: it may disassemble as well as assemble.
3. The energy in use is bound, or controlled, insisting on form to clothe it. Form can be found in matter.
4. It can only be understood by analogy or metaphor, since it has no inherent form.
5. It is parasitic or symbiotic in that it needs preexisting form to survive and it alters this form irreparably.
6. There is an emotional component to creativity, both in the act and in its interpretation.

The form we allow it to take is dependent on our aesthetic sensibilities. In this work the attempt was made to provide the purest analogical form for this process, a form that does not make an attempt to alter the results by adding a narrative or metaphorical component. This work does, however, approach aesthetics from an empathetic perspective; therefore the processes and gestures are laid bare in order to facilitate its interpretation."

Unclassified III

"If a man watches his own mind, I believe he will find that what professes to be specially advanced or philosophic conceptions of God are, in his thinking, always accompanied by vague images which, if inspected, would turn out to be even more absurd than the man-like images aroused by Christian theology." C.S. Lewis, Miracles




We all understand that different stimuli issue a plethora of reactions, both among different persons, but also within a singular individual. We are creatures who rely on imagery, especially mental images, be they composites or those of remembered experiences. Perhaps the sense of beauty resides in the matching up of a "bank" of images being currently employed by our minds with those external ones. Perhaps we experience a mild deja vu every time we feel particularly stuck by some visual phenomenon. The substructure of experience we create within ourselves must be a determining factor in our "knowing" what is beautiful, or what is commonly referred to as our "taste", but is it the only one? Do we all experience a sense of stability in a square, for instance, because we know that the square is a solidly constructed form? What the trigger is might be determined by experiential sources, but the sensing of beauty itself cannot be. We all share this ability, it could be given to us at birth, or temporal form of revelation upon each occurrence, but it is most certainly a gift, for it bears with it peace and joy.

Is it mere coincidence that all human beings carry within them an image of beauty that includes, however idealized or specified, the human form?
Carrying this idea further, is it coincidence that we are often asked to include God in this imaging? God is beauty, God became man. An argument could be made, from a skeptical perspective, that we find beauty in the human form because of the need for procreation, but does procreation happen when we think we have found that beauty we've already constructed within us? Or do we alter those ideas to conform to the reality we find? I think the imagery is helpful, but it would be too simplistic to suppose that it has much to do with survival of the species, or the commitment and family that seem to be as important to our survival as procreation. Once we had found out that the person we thought conformed to our predetermined ideal, turns out to actually be another human being with needs and that ages and has the same unattractive qualities we all have, we would seek to leave. But any sociologist can tell you the destructive aspects of that behavior. So much so that we would only stand a chance of survival if we could have thousands of children like fish or insects, since we would not care for our young in a similar fashion. So why stay? ...Love? We cannot seem to love without the image since it directs us to love, but the image left alone would seem to preclude love. We would have to go on denying the humanity of the one we love in favor of the image. The image must be sacrificed to the love, but it always remains.
God, too, exists as an image for us, He chose the way we are to picture Him, perhaps so that we can love Him in the most pure and abstract way through the image. The difference is that the abstract , or spiritual, will be made known to us. But not through His becoming incarnate again, but through our being given the apparatus to perceive him more fully.


The above images are again part of my "unclassified" series (see "Unclassified I") and again reveal my interst in beeswax. In this instance I placed a bronze figure emerging out from the wax, while being released from a box. (The box is an Altoids tin stripped of its paint) The figure is stepping out of the wax. Since I have already mentioned in the last post that wax seems to be a convenient symbol for mystery, I must conclude that this work has spiritual connotations. Perhaps it is the Incarnation, but more than likely it is an incarnation of another sort. The kind of incarnation we all go through, smaller in scope that the original Incarnation, God becoming man, but a type or metaphor for it. Spiritual rebirth, perhaps, or maybe a lesson learned through the sanctifying Spirit...

Unclassified II

More amorphous semi-series. Why does Wax seem to speak so strongly of mystery for me? I use it to conceal and obscure. It adds both richness and unity, perhaps that the key. It is a product of an insect that is trying to contain its valuables and shield itself. It is a semi-solid, it is semi-transparent, and smells sweet.
These two paintings are intentionally absract in an attempt to see what is left in my work without narrative or symbol (something I do often). I put down a layer of Oil paint on Masonite, then coated the entire surface with wax, which i modeled and worked. then I attached an Aluminum rod off the surface with pieces of Plexiglas that I bent into brackets.

Unclassified I

Here exists a repository of various underdeveloped small scale work that has no classifiation or current function within the larger realm of my more 'formal' work. Many of these are articuations of ideas that needed to be made, but were more like whispers or perhaps sentence fragments than complete statements. Such items might be seen as slipping, or perhaps as a bridge, between sketches and final results. They may or may not be much to look at, yet I've always been interrested in the less well-known works by artists. Perhaps this interrest is derived from my facination with the reverse side of things such as the undersides of toy cars, insects, the hole in the bottom of plastic people... Or maybe in my facination with the package rather than the object contained within it...
Whatever the case may be it always seemed to me a medatative, or perhaps respectful activity. My perceptual apparatus gets complacent in viewing the obvious or polished. In order to truly get at the meaning of something you need to catch it unaware, from oblique angles, in incorrect light. Like a celebrity with no make up doing mundane activities.
The problem in displaying such work, which sometimes I want to hide anyway, is that is seems so cheap and unprofessional. I am 'pulling one over' on the viewer since I really didn't have to work hard, or think full through a piece. The truth is however that some of these "Unclassifieds" are more honest, and more thought through and are the product of as much or more physical activity (does that really matter that much or is it a cultural placebo, later Nate) as a formal work. Can I really expect much from a viewer for this work, should I worry about such things?
Has any other artist struggled with this? It wouldn't be so bad, but I'm swamped in this work, and it seems to be taking valuable time and effort away from better things.
God, are you glorified through this?



The three pieces depicted in this blog began as an experiment into the translucency of beeswax and its effects on collaged elements. They developed into a meditative procedure that incorptated leaves or flowers. I refer to these as 'prayers' although no specific prayer is evoked. They resonate, especially during their construction, with a mystery, specific to Medieval Christian themes, yet not specific as to what aspects, narrative, or even theology. They are small, much like an illuminated manuscript, but use less than conventional materials, with non specific meditations being suggested.