5 March 2014

Perspectives : The Medical Mission

By a confluence of promptings from reading some of C.S. Lewis' writings and a coursera lecture on 'A Brief History of Humankind' by Dr. Yuval Harari, I began to think about the guiding principles behind our medical careers. As a Christian, once again, it has become clear that secular dreams and divine direction are at odds.

As Dr. Harari's lecture pointed out, the medical field is increasingly blatant about how we are now targeting to achieve biological immortality. In the past, we would have said that we are trying to find a cure for malaria, a cure for AIDS, a cure for cancer, and so on. However, with the research being done on the underlying genetics of ageing, we now talk about halting or reversing age itself. We have returned to the ancient quest of Gilgamesh. Armed with a modern understanding of biochemistry and the scientific method, we attempt to wrest control of our mortality from fate. Death is no longer accepted as an immutable fact, but as a challenge to be overcome by anthropic ingenuity.

This is part of the great mission to endow the earth with all the abundance of heaven. Upon forsaking the notion of the soul, the modern secular view must plug the resulting vacuum by promising utopia in this physical world, and what is heaven if you cannot relish it for all eternity? This does not just apply to hospice medicine, but to all branches of medicine which all aim to improve the present physical existence of their patients. The incarnate Elysium must be free of disease and disability.

Biblical principles caution against this quest for physical health as an end in and of itself :

'Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy,
and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven,
where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in and steal;
for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.'
-Matthew 6 : 19 - 21

The only reason we should want to remain on this earth is because we feel we have all we need on this planet, that we can be satisfied on this side of death. To that end, our healthcare is being shaped by the forces of humanism to fulfil this.

But from God's perspective, as Lewis puts it, we are like '[ignorant children] who [want] to go on making mud pies in a slum because [we] cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.' According to the promises of God, the real heaven is infinitely more wonderous and perfect than any tarnished reflection we can muster on our own resources. The glory of heaven, which we cannot now see, will have a permanence and substance that will make the legacies and greatness of this present world appear like passing vapours in comparison.

With that in mind, what then is the Christian calling within the realm of medicine? For those involved in end-of-life care, as I would like to be someday, the answer is simply to offer another chance at repentance and salvation. The fact is, we are only free to choose obedience or rejection of God while we are insulated in this fuzzy experience of reality. Once we step outside the veil of this life, the superior choice and inferior choice would be so apparent as to provoke unanimous assent, and free will is compromised. Thus, choice about this matter is only presented to us during our sojourn as earthly beings. 

If someone dies without a heart for God, they are forever lost, but if they are rescued by the astonishing marvels of medicine, they, in essence, have another chance to grasp redemption. There is something deeply humbling when one is confronted by one's mortality, and the sense of imminent loss may yet serve as the lifeline of the soul. Death induces reflection on the worth and value of life. Through its lenses, we may be able to perceive glimpses of Reality as it is, rather than as what we convince ourselves it is.

Does this imply that those who are believers ought not to be saved? Surely they would then proceed swiftly on, through to eternal glory. But I submit that God, in His power, is able to use even the final months or moments of the life of a faithful servant to effect His will on this earth. As a doctor, I would not dare to assume that I have the authority to decide someone's life is at its end and not worth saving. Life is a gift, freely given and taken at the appointed time. I admit there is another side to this argument, which deserves treatment that cannot be covered in the scope of this post. Briefly put, it should also not be in my jurisdiction to extend life longer than its appointed duration. The later kings of Numenor who held on to their last shreds of life were as misguided as Denethor, who decided his last moments were not worth living.

When it comes to other areas of medicine that may not encounter mortality as regularly, the distinction remains, though with less of the clarity that proximity to the reaper affords. There is nothing wrong with healing the sick or enabling the disabled. Jesus himself performed so many miracles in this department. God wishes for our lives to be filled with joy. If it is in His will, that may be expressed through physical healing. Nonetheless, we must still note the difference between healing for the sake of living in this world, and healing for the sake of blessing others, but while the focus remains on the treasures of heaven. 

There is no profession that is exclusively in line with Biblical principles. In each, there is a way by which we may demonstrate an esteem for ourselves over our Creator.

21 February 2014

An Expanded Representation

It's about time that I updated the map of the Cradle of Eldwan. The detail maps I had in 'Cartographic Iterations' don't match up with the world map that I formulated in the later posts 'World Maps' and 'Geographical Changes'. Mainly because of the scale of the maps which caused the disagreement in the diameter of the Cradle. So, it had to be reworked, this was the result :


Figure 1 - The Scanned Version of the Cradle Map (Version Six)

I took the circumference of earth, divided it by twenty-four, to reach the approximate magnitude of the Cradle on the world maps. Some simple rounding helped me decide that a decent scale would be one centimetre to one hundred kilometres. In total, the circle with an eight centimetre radius now represented an area closer to the size of Mexico than North Korea, which was comparable area for the previous iteration of the map of the Cradle. In other terms, the diameter of a thousand and six hundred kilometres which is approximately the distance between Brisbane and Adelaide.

Naturally, since I now knew this map was enclosed by the circular mountain range, I drew it in to the border, unlike the earlier versions that faded off into areas that might as well have been filled with 'here be dragons'. After scanning and colouring, the result was :


Figure 2 - The Coloured Version of the Cradle Map (Version Six)

If there is one gripe I have with this map, it's that the names are outdated and don't fit in with the constructed language of Eldwan, Tas Eldwaraj. At least in its current state... Conlangs are fickle creatures.

But yes, I do hope that the colours make it easier to interpret. The blues are obviously for water bodies, whether seas or lakes and rivers. The green refers to vegetated areas, mostly where there is an adeuqate supply of water. The khaki marks a relatively dry region. Finally, the grey indicates the highlands; dry, and elevated by precipitous cliffs above the other areas by at least four hundred metres. One major exception is Mirrorsea, which is located on the same level as the highlands. Water, from its four child rivers, streams over the cliffs to the lowlands in fantastic cataracts. Mountains enclose the entire area, which is why the map is encircled by the highlands.

The approximate distances between the cities can now be properly established :
Eleris to Alaris : 350 km ~ London to Paris
Alaris to Caxiris : 215 km ~ Jerusalem to Damascus
Eleris to Mivaris : 160 km ~ London to Bath
Ilvaris to Generis : 230 km ~ Rome to Florence
Ilvaris to Alaris : 890 km ~ Beijing to Xian
Ilvaris to the West Settlement : 415 km ~ Tokyo to Osaka

Now that I've looked at it, I really should have made this map with the east at the top of the page. That would have been more appropriate to the culture of the Age of Light; looking to the rising sun for direction. And less Eurocentric.

19 February 2014

A Progression of Professions

I suppose another aspect of building societies has to do with how they value the functions of various occupations. For example, how the Jews revered their Rabbis, how the Spartans treated their slaves, how just about every ancient culture exalted their kings or emperors, or how our present society treats politicians, professors and celebrities. The way we view these professions, judge their practitioners, and the de facto hierarchy through which they interrelate, dictates a lot of social interaction. The way that these functions are esteemed or debased reflects the values of the social order in question and the needs of a nation.

Admittedly, it was a rather ambitious and, I suppose, pretentious, train of thought to paint broad sweeps of the so-called high and low functions of the societies in Eldwan, according to the changing circumstances that people found themselves in. As with any attempt at characterising societies on a large scale, there are bound to be generalisations and omissions. To counter the most inflammatory notion that some occupations are inherently morally superior or inferior, and that a person's profession limits their ability to do good or ill, I would ask you to examine the original need that the occupation rose to meet. I understand perfectly that not all physicians are virtuous and that some in what may be regarded as less desirable professions are driven there by compounded forces of pecuniary necessity and limited opportunity. But those are secondary situations which do not relate to the core purpose for which the job initially developed.

Pre-Rebellion

I was quite struck by a line that when Adam partook of sin, his occupation was changed from that of a gardener, into a farmer. It got me wondering about what people would have done with their time before the fall, and how that would have had to change after the original disobedience. In the context of Eldwan's primeval paradise, where the Spirits walked amongst humans, one of the central functions would certainly have been worship of the Creator. To this end, a vast variety of practices may have developed from the gifts and ideas of the early evezhen. I have personally fixed on the idea that all art, dance, singing, poetry and other creative exertions in this early period would have expressed praise for the One, the First. So much so that I plan for a common word in Tas Eldwaraj to express both ideas. It's definition would be adapted divergently by the two cultures of course.

The next point is about care for the rest of creation, plants and animals; to be rulers of the earth. This is of course, what the first couple was explicitly instructed to do in Genesis 1 : 28. At this stage, surrounded by the diversity of life in the Garden, it would impossible to ignore the environmental mission.

A final class of pursuits would include those of learning, understanding the natural world, their existence, their purpose and their Creator.

At this point in Eldwan's history, when the divine was so firmly enmeshed with the existence of humanity, there would be little stratification, for all tasks were clearly ordained or in service to the Great Spirits. In that earthly abundance, there would have been no need for jobs to supply the bare necessities of life.

Post-Rebellion

After the expulsion from Eden, the focus of a society would have to shift as a result of their changing needs. In Eldwan, the higher beings no longer associate as freely with humanity and their daily needs are no longer provided. New professions would be forced to develop to meet the needs that were once provided. The gathering professions would rise to centre stage. Agricultural professions, fishing, the collection of water, any task that would be required to supply the bare essentials of life, would be regarded with respect when early man was so strapped for resources. As early societies were so close to the physical poverty line, their focus would have dwelt on such professions. Recalling all the rain deities and fertility deities from various cultures.

Furthermore, construction would have become part of human existence. Building artificial shelters would require another host of occupations revolving around gathering and processing construction materials, designing and assembling buildings.

The higher professions of the harmonious age, while they would still have been revered early on, would have been sacrificed on the altar of necessity, retained in vestigial forms until society assumed the stability required for their dedicated pursuit. The creative spirit of humanity would be quelled under circumstances of comparative poverty. The noble call of environmental stewardship would inevitably be ignored as the selfish nature of the individual simply compounded to result in a selfish human drive at the expense of all other creatures.

Inevitably, man finds more efficient ways of doing the tasks he has before him. Over many years, the gathering professions would become more proficient, and the focus of society would begin to shift away from raw requirements to the creative end of the spectrum. To some extent, this does echo the spirit of Maslow's hierarchy.

As the wealth of cities began to grow to considerable quantities, it would have become necessary to protect them. Militaries would begin to develop. In order to maintain social structure and stability, legal professions would find their footing. Finally, in order to protect life itself, the medical field would have its rudimentary beginnings. After all, there would be little point in acquiring wealth if death looms too near to enjoy it. The more possessions were acquired, the more these 'protective' professions would rise in importance.

Accompanying these 'protective' professions would have been the 'maintenance' professions, which would have a similar function to the 'protective' roles, but less of their glamour because of the objects of their attentions. The technical professions, those who deal with manufactured goods and their maintenance, repairs of tools and devices, and of course, cleaning. Historians could also be viewed as protectors of heritage.

Another group of professions would also begin to surface. As societies grew larger in number and complexity, there would be a growing number of people who had to be involved in what I call 'efficiency' professions. Transport, information brokering, delivering messages, education and so on.

Furthermore, a vein of 'indulgent' professions would have festered beneath the polite veneer, as sin began its dominion of the human race.

Finally, as the aristocracy begins to distill financial hierarchy, the class of oppressors takes place, where some individuals begin to exist at the expense of others. Manifesting in slavery and repression, such clear violations of an individual's rights must have initially appeared grossly incorrect. Desensitisation would eventually have made such oppression the norm among ancient cultures.

The order of importance by which a society arranges these professions reflects its needs and way of life. For example, in societies which were cut off from the divine, as in the pagan Canaanite cultures, the indulgent professions rose to the top, expressing flagrant sin. Their religious rituals were legitimised gratification. Below that, the agricultural professions were also esteemed. I would term these hedonistic societies. In addition, the higher creative expressions which used to be dedicated to true worship, would be dedicated to far inferior causes, for the sake of idols or for a narcissistic admiration of humanity.

After the arrival of the Law, the next type of society would be the Legalistic society, where the religious authority acquires significant jurisdiction. For example, the Israelites living according to the harsh penalties of the Mosaic law. Societies since the coming of the Law oscillate between the hedonistic and the legalistic.

It could be proposed that societies are arranged on a scale. If they have little, they will need to focus on necessities and collection, but as they accumulate more and more, they must dedicate more to preserving what already exists and protecting what they already have. The esteem of professions would shift accordingly. Perhaps, in the final days, the coming Kingdom will restore the pristine order. Until that day, we can observe how the values of nations metamorphose through the prestige granted to the multifarious occupations generated over our history.

19 January 2014

Perspectives : Hodiernal Terminus

We often hear the phrase, 'Live each day as if it is your last', from both sources of secular and Christian wisdom. While they bear a superficial resemblance, they are, at their core, profoundly divergent. My study group is going through 'Crazy Love', and we've just completed week two, reminding us of that opening adage. Incidentally, I'm reminded of the line 'Disce quasi semper victurus, Vive quasi cras moriturus'; which I used on a design for my class hoodie to the dismay of my classmates who had no idea what it meant and couldn't be bothered to search it up and justify my budding interest in Latin...

Differences first. From the secular perspective, I would argue that we live our lives to leave a legacy. That is what the world promises us is the noblest way to die. In a fashion that would leave those remaining compelled to give the departed respect of various kinds. One of the most straightforward is 'Pro Patria Mori', where soldiers who die are given the promise of posthumous commendations and memorials. Another commonly cited example is that of Alfred Nobel, who was able to alter his epithet from 'marchand de la mort' to 'benefactor of the Nobel prize' after reading his erroneous obituary. The world promises we will be remembered for what we accomplish. In a typical human method, we are judged by what we do, then sanctified or demonised in collective recollection. The number of those who remember us depends on the magnitude of our deeds. This would probably be the secular noble approach. 

There would probably be a second secular approach, which I would name the secular hedonistic approach. Quite simply, this alternative would propose enjoying whatever we have not yet experienced, but have harboured desire for. Since only a single day remains, you will never have a chance to experience it again, nor will there be any repercussions for you the following day. Of course this throws all consideration of regret and the future existence of others right out the window. Or perhaps the defenestrated concerns would not have been within the periphery of people who would subscribe to this view in the first place.

The Christian perspective asks us to consider a very different question, 'If you were to perish today, would you be able to face your God and confidently claim 2 Timothy 4:7?' The approval sought comes not from earth, but from heaven.

There are of course, many common implications that both the secular and Christian take on the final day share. Perhaps one could be expressed with another saying, 'Living life without regrets'. Yet even this can be subdivided into Christian and secular takes. From a secular perspective, consistently making choices that you know you would not want to rescind is difficult. You never know what may happen to change your reasoning, to cause the whole delicate construction of justifications and muddled emotions to come tumbling down in a regrettable heap. On the other hand, an ideal Christian walk with God involves a constant consultation about the complex choices we are confronted with. With prayerfully directed and divinely confirmed decisions, living in line with God and His principles does away with any regret because God is our immutable justification. Some might critique this as a denial of responsibility to deflect the piercing weight of regret, but I would say it was never our responsibility to begin with.

What then might both sides agree on? Perhaps in terms of how we relate to each other. For the good of all, it makes sense to live in a way that does not engender bitter hatred and deep divides between individuals or groups. To be in harmony with others. We may agree to disagree ideologically, but relationally and personally, let none hold the festering grudges and cold fury that seem so inconsequential in the spectre of the reaper's scythe.

A second point would be about the value of time. Every can agree that time is limited; that between our nativity and demise there is a finite period where we can manoeuvre to make the most of our lives. When it comes right down to it, whether you subscribe to the wisdom of man or the wisdom of God, it is hard to make the most of each second we have. The ultimate goal may involve living a good life from the secular perspective, or drawing closer to God from the Christian perspective, but wasted time may be one constant human failing that we all share, and for which all will bear a sentiment of regret.

18 January 2014

A Complementary Blog

Just set up another blog : The Veiled Aspect, so that I can upload my draft without resorting to a gargantuan Google Document. There wasn't a good way to present it in Google Docs chapter by chapter except by creating a series of documents, which would have made for a very cluttered folder and a whole series of links to share. A second blog was quite necessary to prevent chapters of the draft being interrupted by posts about all sort of other details, given how I am working on the language, mythology, philosophy and so on of Eldwan's societies.

I decided to give wordpress a try, then I realised that neither blogger nor wordpress have user friendly table options... I wonder why they both don't seem to think tables on blogs are useful enough to make an approachable interface for that function.

5 January 2014

Inhibited Linguistic Evolution

I recently read 'Latin: Story of a World Language'. Fascinating, although the technicalities are somewhat imposing for an amateur latinist like myself. It's gotten me thinking about linguistic developments and changes as societies progress, and how intimately it is tied with political and cultural factors. Of course there is one major difference between the society of Europe and the societies of Eldwan in the Age of Light which has rather unforeseeable consequences - lifespan.

It would be a massive oversimplification to attribute all alterations of language to generational succession, but it is undoubtedly a significant factor. As older speakers die, it is inevitable that their period's particular style of vernacular is lost. Conversely, as younger speakers and writers come into their own, they also wish to establish themselves, and part of this is involves inventing new expressions and reusing existing words in novel ways.

Perhaps it would be best to say that a written language has much more stability than a language that exists purely as atmospheric vibrations. The Radiant and the Faithful establish their written culture early on, having a common heritage of scripts from the Age of Harmony. Furthermore, if anyone contributed to Tas Eldwarach in the same way that Cicero and the other great Roman writers contributed to Latin, a codification of grammar and style would soon set a standard. Furthermore, these immortal authors would exist to clarify and critique any grammatical confusion of future generations, likely further inhibiting any drift away from their established rules.

Innovation would still be permitted, surely. But texts would be carefully sorted by the period in which they were written and overall, there would be far less change than what we observe in our present day languages. Furthermore, pronunciation would also have reduced variation, as the younger speakers grow up among a very static population of speakers who have been using the same vowels and consonants for centuries. The younger speakers would have to adopt the phonetic values of their elders to be understood, and this may have been firmly entrenched by formal education.

However, the situation is rendered a little more complicated by the existence of two separate societies in the Age of Light. I suggest that their grammar might not have differed significantly, since that was established when humanity was united. The definitions and connotations of words would have shifted. It might be particularly evident with words that were involved directly with the Day of Rebellion and Alero. For example, words like dragon, noon, independent, judgement and sunset, would have polarised positive or negative associations between the Radiant and the Faithful.

New words invented post-Rebellion would also have existed predominantly in only one society. This would include technical language, to describe new inventions, new discoveries and new ideas. These words would have migrated over to the other society, but would have been labelled as foreign borrowings. Since the Radiant focused on physics and electromagnetism in particular, they would have the appropriate terminology, while the Faithful, with their focus on natural symbiosis, would have had their own set of jargon. Words would also dance in and out of favour, just as they do today. The societies would have diverged in their choice word for a particular activity or noun.

Considering a wider range of events, the High Elves on the Far Continent would have had a very different language from the Cradle societies, but the telepathic abilities of the Elves would allow the Ward Elves to integrate themselves quite easily if they ever came into contact. But the essential features of the High Elvish language would have been fixed, as it is also descended from the original Tas Eldwarach.

Moving forward into the other ages, Tas Eldwarach is still spoken in Alaris in the Age of Water, but since death is now a prevalent spectre, it soon becomes the formal codified language and is distanced from the population's vernacular. The gods of Alaris would have persisted in Tas Eldwarach, so it would become the tongue of the state, the law and of religion. Of course the Elves would have spoken it as well, but the language of the Scattered along the coasts would have embarked on great Odysseys of transformation.

Tas Eldwarach was eventually lost to mortal man during the Confusion, the fatal blow to Alaris and human hubris. Thereafter it was known as the language of the Elves, as the Elves spoke it among themselves and not when interacting with the Fallen. After the Confusion, the languages of the Fallen would have proceeded, uninhibited, in their fragmentary metamorphoses. The languages of the Scattered would become isolate languages as the societies of the proud descendants of Alaris set out to claim vast tracks of land in the Age of Rulers.