Brain Again

I wrote about the brain a couple of weeks ago. I reported a comparison between the brain scan of a child who had endured trauma and the brain scan of a child the same age who had not (what we cautiously labeled "normal"). We noted the physical changes that occur from trauma, which lead to incapacities to behave well consistently or even to receive correction normally. Then I spent time noting that even a "normal" brain is fallen, and physically incapable of right behavior or rightly responding to correction all the time. I'd like to ponder a little further on these ideas.

Our baseline is this - a brain that has been significantly damaged in some way is more clearly obvious in its diminished capacity, but a "normal" brain is also fallen and therefore physically incapable of perfectly generating right responses. This is our working assumption. Both are fallen and physically dysfunctional to some degree, but one may be more obvious than the other (or frustratingly less obvious!).

This working assumption also applies to self identity. My self identity is who I see myself to be. Perhaps I see myself as a lowlife. Perhaps I see myself as God's gift to Johnson Country. Perhaps I see myself as unlovable, unforgivable, slow-minded, awfully clever, dashing, hilarious, or socially invisible. Obviously, an accurate self identity is more healthy than an inaccurate one. A significantly inaccurate self identity leads to any number of problems: emotional, social, theological, and so on.

The brain has much to do with one's self-identity. Given our working assumption that all are "brain damaged" but some are more obvious, we are physically incapable of perfectly healthy senses of self identity. We don't have the physical capacity to be exactly correct in how we understand ourselves. And with self identities that are inaccurate to some degree, we are then prone to the problems that come from those inaccurate self identities.

Furthermore, given our fallenness (and our subsequent "brain damage"), part of our self identity can become that we're hopelessly brain damaged, spoiled goods incapable of anything worthwhile. A vicious cycle! We can begin to define ourselves by this incapacitation, accept a label as our identity, and therefore doubt we can ever grow significantly.

Related to this is that our fallen brains are damaged in their role in our beliefs. The brain is involved in what we believe and how we believe it (although not solely responsible for beliefs), and a physically damaged brain, obvious or not, contributes to wrong beliefs.

And yet it is our very beliefs, imperfect as they are, that illumine our path away from these incapacities. The Gospel says that in Christ, I have been made perfect before God. Jesus provides us with His perfection, which means that in Christ, our damaged brains are counted as perfect before God. The resulting errant behaviors, reactions, self identities, and beliefs are counted as perfect before God, too.

Even though we can't believe perfectly, this is a truth that we can believe. It's true whether or not we believe it well, but it is a truth we can believe. We can grab onto it and run with it. Our salvation doesn't depend on how well we can believe this, but we can believe it. And when we believe it, our self identity now becomes something like, I am a child of God who is credited in Christ as if I had a perfect brain which makes perfect decisions. That's a pretty good self identity! Not that we always do make perfect decisions, but that this dysfunction is not my identity. My identity is in Christ, declared perfect and empowered by the Holy Spirit, to one day be gifted with a new, glorified, unfallen brain.

This is one reason why I believe that those with severe brain damage are no less "capable" of salvation. Salvation is not the product of an adequately functioning brain, lest none of us be saved. The perfection of Christ's brain function is adequate for all who, in whatever capacity God has allowed, trust in His Son. I dare say many who suffer damage to the brain can frequently demonstrate a far greater trust than I can. 

The sufficiency of Christ is not limited by our incapacities, whether they are obvious or not. Therefore, our identities need not be anything less than "perfected in Christ no matter what."

Out of Context

"You took my comment out of context!" During any political season, we're sure to hear this excuse for something a candidate said that the opposing party made a big deal about. Most often, it seems, both sides have a point - the candidate did say something offensive, stupid, or inaccurate, and the opposing party did take the comment out of context to make it sound far worse than it actually was. One of the few things they agree on is that the fair thing to do is to take someone's comments within the context they were spoken, and then take whatever issue with it as you please (even though they rarely do so).

We have the same expectation of literature, research, and statistics. Most of us have had homework marked wrong because we quoted something out of context to better fit our point. Statistics are perhaps the easiest to take out of context, according to 3 out of 7 scientists. ;-) One thing that drives me crazy are internet posts that take some factoid out of context to make a point the statistics never did support - I don't care if I agree or disagree with your conclusion, I'm going to call you on it when I see it. It's a form of lying.

For those who study religious texts, we are particularly sensitive to context for quoting. We grieve over "teachers" who rip a verse out of Scripture to make the most unscriptural points ("I can do all things...", "If my people pray...", "Increase my borders..."). Most common, however, is taking a passage out of context to make a perfectly Scriptural point - Scripture does say that, but not in that passage you just quoted. Responsible teachers intentionally consider the contexts: literary, historical, and cultural.

We critique people who take things out of context, and we should. However, there's another contextual concern that we too often ignore. We are far too quick to take people out of context.

At a store, we see a child yell at his mother, neither of whom we know anything about, and then we draw all kinds of conclusions about the child ("how disrespectful!") and the parent ("if she'd practice discipline at home..."). We cry out when someone uses statistics out of context to draw conclusions, and yet we so easily take people out of context to draw all kinds of conclusions. What is the child's story? Does he have an emotional disorder or disease? Did he just lose his father? Is he just an obnoxious brat? What's the parent's story? Is that the child's parent at all? Has she already tried everything and is near her wit's end? Is she an addict and only hears people when they yell?

I'm not at all suggesting that everyone is innocent and we just need to understand them. Sometimes, they're in the wrong. But if we take them out of context, then we're also in the wrong for doing so. We simply cannot take someone out of context and pretend to know what their problem is or what they need. Doing so is a form of lying.

Like statistics, we must understand the context before we understand what we've seen. And for people, that most often means patient listening (or else butting out!). As any teacher would do, we need to do the "research" about the context before we dare suggest we understand the person, let alone be so bold as to conclude what they ought to do.

Use the same discipline - refuse to claim anything about the statistic, or the person, until you've understood the context it comes out of. And if you cannot determine the context, refuse to make any strong assessment at all (otherwise called "being judgmental"). If we can't do this for simple numbers, we cannot do this for complex people with complex histories and varied contexts.

Don't we wish that's what others would do unto us?

"Normal" Doesn't Mean "Correct"

Last week, I attended GRID KC, a conference on the various needs related to foster care of children. Fifty blog entries on what I learned would not suffice, and I still have much to work through. There is one point, that got my head spinning in a couple of directions.

The speaker showed brain scans of two four year olds, one who had endured severe emotional trauma and the other "normal." Emotional trauma can modify brain function in a way that is measurable by a machine! The dysfunction of the brain, by no fault of the child, hampers the child from behaving well, handling stress, and being disciplined.

When a "normal" child misbehaves and we correct or discipline her, she tends to respond with better behavior. When a child with trauma-induced brain dysfunction misbehaves, it may not be within her control to manage her behavior appropriately. Furthermore, the same correction and discipline that worked with the "normal" child may not have any chance at all to work with this child. Simply put, the child may not have the physiological mechanisms to respond appropriately to "normal" discipline. But we typically see this child as "rebellious." Mercifully, some of the brain dysfunction can be reparable.

The hampered brain has been damaged by the Fall of man. Our sin. The child was born with a fallen body (and brain), but the sins of others have caused even more damage so that the child may not be able to behave or be corrected in a healthy way.

The implications in the fostering world are obvious, since almost every child in foster care is there because of trauma. It also has implications in schools and churches, although we don't always know when a child has endured severe trauma in order to react in more productive ways. But as much as this topic deserves space, I want to focus on "normal."

The "normal" brain can respond more "normally." That's not in question. However, the "normal" brain is also damaged by the Fall. So, even a "normal" brain is incapable of consistently behaving rightly, or more to the point, behaving righteously. Furthermore, even a "normal" brain cannot always be corrected or disciplined. We are physically incapable of behaving perfectly or being corrected perfectly merely by appealing to the brain. No amount of counsel, advice, rules, or threats of consequences can make these brains work righteously all the time.

And yet, like the more obvious example of fruitlessly trying to discipline a trauma-damaged brain through "normal" correction, relying solely on discipline for any brain is not reliable. But it's what we rely on almost exclusively. And then we judge one another for not behaving or not responding to correction.

This is not to say we aren't culpable. It's to say we're not always capable. We need new, glorified bodies with new, glorified brains to behave righteously on our own. The Gospel offers us that through the coming resurrection. But before then, we need God's power in order to behave better than our brains are able and to respond to discipline better than our brains are able. The Gospel offers us that, too, through the indwelling Holy Spirit for all who believe.

So, let's continue to encourage, correct, and discipline one another, but with the knowledge that we are limited in our ability for this to work. Don't expect what physiologically can't work all the time to work all the time. But let's also lean on, pray for, and encourage the work of the Holy Spirit in one another to continue to do what we simply cannot do. Let us afford the grace to one another that we are all brain-damaged by the trauma of the Fall, and are being transformed and renewed by Christ. That is the Gospel.

Whadya Remember?

Last week, Lynne and I enjoyed a nice, simple vacation. I was asked to officiate a wedding in Columbus, GA, for a young man who grew up in the church we served from 2003 to 2010. So, we made a whole week of it - first to the Chattanooga area to spend a day with dear friends, then to Dublin, GA, where we used to live, and then on to Columbus. Two thousand miles of mountains, rivers, lakes, evergreens, kudzu, and friends.

Those who were in the youth group when we were there are now ... adults. And it's wonderful. Watching personalities emerge and define, now finding their more mature expression, with clearer heads and more significant priorities. Kids that we had bi-polar relationships with - from thoroughly enjoying to angry corrections - now more than able to relate as adults.

We also got to catch up with so many of our friends, some in their homes, some at a party, and others still at the wedding. People that we broke bread with, stayed up all night in the hospital with, went fishing with (and the subsequent fish fry), hunted with, and learned the Word with. We walked through weddings, baptisms, births, divorces, illness, death, and daily life with some very dear people.

One special visit was to the home of an older couple, James and Mary. James is quite ill and under hospice care. In the weeks leading up to our trip, there was real concern that he wouldn't still be with us by time we arrived. He was, looking frail and surviving on oxygen, but joyful. They spoke about God's goodness and how much they appreciated seeing us again. James said our visit was his best birthday present, which tells you far more about them than us. Lynne understandably left several tears there.

During all these visits, there was lots of reminiscing. Many great memories, lots of "remember that time when...?" We caught up on recent events, but we also enjoyed recalling the times we spent together, the good and the bad. Like the time we unintentionally scared the youngest kids during VBS with a life-size lion costume, turning Aslan into a scary character for some traumatized kiddos. But there was one kind of recall that never occurred, not even once. Not one person said, "Remember that one sermon where you said..."

No one talked about a single sermon - supposedly the thing I was primarily employed to do for that church. Those weren't the memories that bubbled to the top. What we did talk about was the time we spent together, both individually and as groups. That's what we hang onto most. As important as sermons and lessons and meetings are to the life of the church, the greatest impact we have on one another is not flawlessly running our programs, but twisting our busy lives into one another. That is more church than great praise songs and a moving sermon.

What you, Lynne, and I will remember together will not be how well we did church, but how well we were church. Let's continue to twist our busy lives into one another so that one day we will say, "Remember that time when ..." and it not be about what I'm employed to do.