Homicide Investigations to Explain Natural Theology vs Revealed Theology

I came across a post on Reddit that used the analogy of a homicide to describe differing attitudes towards knowledge in religious and religious people.

The analogy goes;

"Imagine you're a homicide detective. Most of the time you don't know who the killer is, so every piece of evidence is a valuable clue that might lead you to the truth and you are going to weigh it carefully.

But let's say on one case, you already know who the killer is, and all you're trying to do is gather enough evidence to convict. (Let's say you witnessed the crime firsthand, but your testimony is inadmissible for some reason.) Now your standard for evaluating evidence is completely different. You aren't trying to find out the truth—you already know it—you are just trying to find enough evidence to corroborate it.

In most things true believers are like the rest of us. They don't know the truth ahead of time and must rely on a critical evaluation of evidence to tease it out. But when it comes to religion, they think they already know the truth. They think they have witnessed firsthand the answers that everyone else is groping in the dark to find. So they aren't judging the church against the evidence for and against it. Rather, the evidence is judged according to whether it supports what they already know to be true."

In many ways this analogy is fantastic, because it gets at the disparity between faith and reason as forms of knowledge. But like all analogies, it fails in some areas, and I'd like to highlight two ways in which I think that happens, so as better to illuminate the phenomenon it is trying to describe.

1) We want to know why, or how, the detective thinks he knows who the killer is. Natural theology would say that he could have worked it out using the evidence, but eventually he would have to confront the killer and get a confession. Revealed theology would say that the evidence is insufficient and could be read in multiple ways, so the only way to know is to ask the killer directly and get them to explain how they committed the murder and how the evidence fits together. The only reason the detective knows this is because the killer approached him first and confessed.

If the detective witnessed the crime first hand we end up with a non-relational revealed theology, where the killer has no part in the transformation of the believer. Faith is therefore purely chance (the detective was just in the right place at the right time).

2) The post is written from the point of view of a non-religious person. The irony is that this person thinks they have the 'inside scoop' on how religious people think, or how faith really works. This doesn't mean the writer isn't correct, it's simply worth noting that he is not objective. He assumes that he (and people who hold his position) are able to weigh up the evidence. 

a. If he thinks that no one did it and it was an accident then he would be an atheist, but his reasons for thinking this would need to be based on the evidence, and he would be claiming that he too has the inside scoop, in that everyone else thinks it's a murder but actually it wasn't. If everyone just studied the evidence then they'd realise that it was an accident and not a murder.

b. If he thinks the evidence is inconclusive he is an agnostic. He cannot simply ignore it and go home, because there is an answer to the homicide, whether it was an accident or there is a murderer still at large. Saying that the evidence is inconclusive and ignoring the issue does nothing to the reality of the situation. Instead, he must either continue weighing up the evidence until he reaches a conclusion, or try to get a confession from the killer himself. If the killer exists and is willing to confess (as one detective claims) then getting an answer should be pretty easy. If the killer cannot be singled out amongst a line up of suspects, then the detective cannot therefore conclude that the killer does not exist, only that if he exists he has not found him yet.

I hope that all this makes sense. I've tried to structure it to show my train of thought.

I think the big question for Revealed theology is why did the killer approach one detective and not another? There's no good answer for this, but Christianity unanimously argues that it is not because the detective is a good detective. Rather, the detective who knows is no different to detective who doesn't know. This might look a lot like chance, therefore looking like the non-relational revealed theology, and this is one of the criticisms often made of predestination. An Arminian might argue that once approached the detective has the choice whether or not to believe the killer, but again, the analogy starts to break down!

Criticism welcome!

A Christology of 'Searching for Sugar Man'

I watched the film Searching for Sugar Man last night, and was so struck by the Christ-figure imagery that I felt I had to write about it.

The film is about a man named Sixto Rodriguez who is offered a recording contract in the early 70's, but never makes it as a musician to the surprise of the music industry. He's later dropped from the label, but his music takes off in South Africa. His songs become the voice of the oppressed in the war against apartheid, influencing new music, and leading to government censorship. Eventually Rodriguez is hunted down and found after decades of obscurity.

The film portrays Rodriguez as a very simple man who has worked hard all his life, and goes through great suffering as his royalties got lost in the corrupt record label system.

It struck me that this suffering character is reminiscent of Christ, who was dead for 3 days, while Rodriguez was assumed dead for 30 years. Both men come across as extremely humble, and extremely simple. Both had jobs as manual labourers, and Rodriguez' daughter even describes Rodriguez as a carpenter.

In both cases the system plays a part. The Roman system 'washed their hands' of Jesus' murder, while everyone in the music industry claimed to have been abiding by the royalties scheme and thus are blameless.

One writer in the film even titles his search of Rodriguez as 'Searching for Jesus', because Rodriguez puts Jesus as his first name, rather than Sixto, on some songs.

What struck me most however, was the effect of the resurrection in each case. Rodriguez played a series of gigs in South Africa to vast crowds, all of whom are overwhelmed at this man's existence, and many having doubted the reality of his being alive up to the moment before he came on stage. The recordings show people completely captivated and singing with their eyes closed and hands in the air; scenes reminiscent of Hillsong!

Worshipers in a Hillsong Church. Similar scenes to 

Rodriguez' gigs in South Africa.

It made me think that while Jesus' resurrection appearances were to 500 people max, when he comes again the atmosphere will be even more electric and overwhelming. The man who has been forgotten, rejected, and stripped of his due royalties, will be given all that he is owed and much more.

What is fascinating, however, is that Rodriguez returns to the USA, rather than staying in South Africa. In the same way, after the resurrection Jesus returns home. The difference of course, is that Rodriguez has returned to South Africa several times since then, while Christians wait for the next and last return of Jesus.

There are also many other differences between the two men (one being the nature of each man's message), but certainly there are some interesting parallels, such that have made me see the second coming in a new light.

We now live as South Africans who have searched for, and found, Jesus; yet we await his return to South Africa to come and live with us forever. In the meantime there are plenty of gigs and parties to attend in celebration of having found him, and we await the 'great gig in the sky', as Pink Floyd put it.

Interestingly the metaphor could be flipped, and Rodriguez could be a prodigal son figure, but that might be a theme to keep in mind for re-watching the film.

As far as the film goes I thoroughly recommend it!

Faith and Tradition

This might be my most Catholic post yet, but I've been recently thinking about the value of studying Church History and the lives of various old Christian thinkers.

It struck me that no one's faith exists outside of the historical heritage that Christianity bears. While many people might not know much about the Early Church Fathers we all know of Peter, who made the first decision to believe Jesus was the Jewish Messiah (Mt 16:13-20; Mk 8:27–30; Lk 9:18–20).

But Peter's faith didn't stop at that point. He continued to believe and convinced other people of Jesus' divinity. Those people in turn shared their faith with others, and so on and so forth, until today, where any new Christian owes his/her faith to that long tradition.

A stained glass window depicting 

Peter's confession of Christ

I certainly believe that if God wanted to he could simply reveal himself to someone with no human interference (such as Paul in Acts 9), but it seems that the majority of people do not have this experience. Rather, much like the convoluted story in Acts 10, God sends and angel to Cornelius and a separate angel to Peter, getting them to meet each other. It would seem much simpler to just get the angel to tell Cornelius everything Peter was going to say. Yet God decides to use people.

Therefore faith must trust to some extent that Peter got it right about Jesus. Luckily, however, Peter isn't the only one we have to trust. We can also trust the other disciples who made the same claims about Jesus, and the fact that they died for their faith (according to Eusebius' Historia Ecclesiastica almost all the early disciples were martyred). 

Yet there is another level of trust, and that is that those who recorded the events in the various books that make up the New Testament were correct about what they described. We cannot verify a lot of the details in the New Testament, because there is little external attestation (there are some references in writers such as Josephus, Tacitus, and Seutonius). Indeed, Nazareth was a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, and a wandering Rabbi was nothing to take note of, so we must question the legitimacy of expecting a large amount of external evidence.

But we can trust the sheer volume of their recordings. We have 10 copies of Caesar's Gallic Wars, the earliest copy of which was written around 1,000 years after the original, and this is largely seen as a historical document and worth trusting. With the New Testament, however, we have thousands of manuscripts written in many different languages, the earliest of which was copied out 30 years the original was written (I've taken this information from the Alpha Course booklet).

And while there are other levels of trust (such as, that I am not insane or having hallucinations etc.), there is one more I would like to outline here. Faith must trust that the manuscripts that survived and consequently were gathered together by the Early Church Fathers in the 3rd Century are genuinely worthy of the term scripture. We cannot be completely certain that all the letters and books were written by who they say they're written by, which means that we have to trust to some extent in the proximity that the early Christian community had to the original authors. They were certainly a mobile community, frequently visiting each other and traveling to new places, and they seem to have been very close judging by the greetings at the end of Paul's letters. They also would have spoken Greek as their first language. Therefore we have to trust that the early community kept the right letters and books based on their sound judgement of what was good for teaching and captured something of God's nature.

Athanasius of Alexandria (296-373CE) played an important

role in the process of deciding the Biblical Canon

Therefore, faith must rest on the faith of others to some extent, and not just faith in God, but faith in anything. If I trust that my lecturer knows a topic then I can believe that what he says is true without researching it for myself. In the same way, if someone of scientific authority tells me that the Big Bang happened, I have to trust that they are right because I cannot research that myself (I might be able to, but I don't have time to research everything). Furthermore, if I want to enjoy my life I have to trust that what I see happening around me is genuinely what is happening and not a dream, because I cannot prove that it isn't. A married man could never prove that his wife loved him, so he must trust that she does and that she is 'faithful'.

Thus faith does not start at 0. Faith has a communal and a historical aspect to it, as well as an 'irrational' aspect that goes beyond objective factual information (but not necessarily against it). It must trust and make assumptions, and anyone who thinks they do not have faith in anything is mistaken.



(I have used the words faith and trust interchangeably, and I have done so because I think that faith must include and element of trust. I do think that faith carries deeper meaning that simply 'trust', but that would require a separate blog post).

My Dissertation

I thought I'd never want to look at it again, but for some reason I feel compelled to share my findings while writing my BA dissertation. I've just posted the abstract and conclusion. If you would like to read the whole thing then let me know! Please don't point out any mistakes... its already been handed in!

The Conflict Between Obedience to God and Obedience to the State in the Book of Revelation

Summary of the Abstract

The conflict that the individual experiences when the state commands them to disobey God has serious consequences for the believer. Disobedience towards the state might lead to imprisonment, torture or execution, or more subtle forms of maltreatment such as ostricisation and social alienation. Furthermore, disobedience to the state seems to be explicitly forbidden in Romans 13:1-7, yet passages like Revelation 13 attribute the state’s authority to the figure of Satan. How is the believer to act when confronted with this conflict of obedience?

The book of Revelation presents a dichotomy of state and believer within a larger eschatological battle of good and evil. The believer is exhorted to lay down their life and not attempt to usurp the state’s authority through violent revolution. In doing so the believer trusts that God will vindicate them in the Parousia. Furthermore, the believer is warned against finding safety from the conflict through wealth and comfort, as this too is a subtle form of evil. Thus the believer witnesses (martureo) until they become a martyr.

The Destruction of Leviathan by Gustave Doré (1865).

Summary of the Conclusion

Our study has loosely followed a pattern of thesis, antithesis and synthesis. In the first chapter we saw Maccabean and Zealot ideology as revolutionary and explicitly anti-state, which sought to replace Seleucid/Roman oppression with the High Priesthood. The antithesis to this was expressed in the book of Daniel, the teachings of Jesus in Matthew, and the writings of Paul, which presented an attitude that sought to accommodate the state, albeit occasionally attributing its authority to Satan. Revelation, however, served as the synthesis of these attitudes. John also attributes the state’s authority to Satan, but goes further to describe them in the same way he describes Jesus’ relationship with his Father. Furthermore, like the Zealots John rejects all apparently beneficial aspects of the state, and is highly critical of the seductive comfort and luxury that comes with imperial cultic adherence. Therefore John actually propitiates the obedience conflict where it is possible to avoid it.

Throughout this study I have argued seven important features of the obedience conflict. The first is that the believer is not called to violent revolution, but instead must lay down her life if it is demanded of her, and in doing so she is ironically obedient to the state’s punishment. The second is that literature on the subject must be viewed in light of a prescriptive-descriptive divide, for although some passages seem to command complete allegiance to the state, the writers were often caught up in conflict with the authorities themselves. The third is that the believer can only lay down his life in faith, as martyrdom seems pitifully ineffective when compared to revolution, and Revelation presents the former as effective and active in bringing the Parousia closer and crying out to God for justice (6:10).

The fourth is that the believer lives within the over-arching context of freedom/victory, and yet is simultaneously called to be obedient to the defeated state. Thus the state cannot compel the believer, but the believer’s obedience to God might cause her to compel herself. The fifth is that the rule of God is both ‘already’ and ‘not yet’, and thus the believer lives within an inaugurated eschatology: the Lamb has been slain but not everything has been made new. The sixth is that the state is under the control of Satan, and although the believer is called to be obedient to it, she is not called to be uncritical. For although the state might not be militarily oppressive, luxury and social standing serve as subtle forms of satanic influence, and thus the benefits of the state must be questioned along with the flaws.

Finally, authority, wealth and luxury are not to be rejected per se, but rather replaced with the legitimate rule and luxury of God. The believer should not seek to usurp the state but is called to be obedient to God and await justice. The believer is therefore constantly obedient to God regardless of what the state demands.


The Present in Light of the Past

We can loosely apply these conclusions to three very different modern examples of the obedience conflict: the redefinition of marriage, Bonhoeffer’s dilemma, and state welfare. I use these examples to illustrate the broad relevance of the obedience conflict and how some of the above conclusions might be practically implemented.

In the redefinition of marriage the Christian takes his definition of marriage from the over-arching victory/freedom and not from the state, even if the state seems to agree with the believer. Furthermore, ostricisation and social rejection are not to be avoided if such a conflict arises, and thus the believer must continue in faith at the cost of social standing or personal security.

In the context of Bonhoeffer’s dilemma there seemed only two options: the evil of turning a blind eye, and the evil of assassinating Hitler. Revelation, however, presents a third way of openly criticizing the state, which would have certainly incurred the death penalty. The believer does not seek martyrdom per se but hopes to bring change through open witness to the corruption. Naturally martyrdom would follow in this context, and if the state wishes to silence the witness then the witness accepts his death as further proof of the state’s corruption. On the outside this seems fruitless, but the believer lays down his life in faith that God will effect change and bring ultimate victory. The obedience conflict would never have arisen, however, if the believer did not openly oppose the state and resist through continuing to live out his faith in a visible/audible way. If he lied about his convictions, or if he used wealth to protect himself, he would no longer be relying on faith for his protection, but instead the Whore of Babylon.

In questions of state welfare the believer is called to look after the physical needs of individuals (Mt 25:35-40) and love her neighbours (Mt 22:36-40). The model of self-sacrifice and obedience is to be followed regardless of what the state provides because the believer lives under the authority of God first, and the state second. Thus the state is largely irrelevant to God’s call on the life of the believer.


Living with a Defeated Leviathan

The conflict between obedience to God and obedience to the state can therefore be described not in purely exclusive terms, but as an over-arching authority that requires its adherents to accommodate a lesser, defeated authority. Naturally this tension causes confusion and conflict in the life of the believer, yet one is temporary and the other is eternal, meaning that ultimately there is no competition as to whom the believer is to obey. However, if the believer ever finds herself in luxury without the danger of the obedience conflict ever arising, the book of Revelation questions the true cost of her comfort.

Aldous Huxley vs George Orwell

I recently heard someone contrast Aldous Huxley's Brave New World (BNW) with George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four (1984), arguing that in the build up to the year 1984 so much pressure was put on 1984 that everyone forgot about the alternative distopia: Brave New World.

Soma is the drug that everyone in Brave New World 

takes when they need to relax.

When I read 1984 I absolutely loved it. The bitter cynicism and alternate reality was a fantasy world, because the government in the UK was never as organised as the IngSoc party. Political softness and pandering to the general public for support has meant that I've never experienced the fear of the government that many had during the cold war. While the internet has surely made personal information more easily open to governmental abuse, so too the government has been forced to be more open, and scandal after scandal has shown that secrets rarely stay hidden. After all, it only ever takes one person to break a cartel! For a while 1984 was my favourite book (later replaced by Catch 22).

Yet when I read Brave New World something within me was deeply shaken and disturbed. I was absolutely horrified and it quite quickly became my most hated book. I frequently feel this when I watch and read things that I find are too real (the film 500 Days of Summer, for example). In one sense this shows a deep weakness of mine: that I have to live in a fantasy world to some extent, because reality is too shocking and disturbing for me a lot of the time. But I believe that this weakness can be a strength, as it lets me touch on what I feel is wrong with the world and in myself. Much like physical pain draws attention to something that needs fixing, so too emotional pain caused by media that 'hits a nerve' draws attention to things that need fixing in us and in our perception of the world.

The political ideology of IngSoc in 1984

While 1984 did not 'hit a nerve', BNW did, and it was only recently that someone articulated what disturbed me so much. They said that 1984 is a distopia where people are controlled by pain, but in BNW everyone is controlled through pleasure. Indeed, with the cold war and rise of communism, the fear and hype that surrounded the year 1984 was understandable. But with so much attention paid in that direction, few people asked whether the future would be as Huxley predicted.

In BNW people are subdued by the pleasure that they live for. Humans are no longer born but are made in labs, and are conditioned for the roles in life that they will lead. Menial workers, for example, are given a lower IQ and made physically stronger, to encourage job satisfaction, while scientists are given higher IQs. 

Everyone is encouraged to have sex with everyone else. Everyone belongs to everyone else in a physical sense, and therefore exercising this 'freedom' is encouraged as a source of pleasure. 

Everyone is also encouraged to take Soma holidays. Soma is a fictional drug that has no side effects or hangovers, and if life gets a bit stressful or tough you can change the dose depending on how long you need to go on holiday.

Thus the general population is kept placid and happy through amusing themselves. There is no end to the sources of pleasure and everyone is able to be as happy as they want. And yet there is nothing happy about the book at all. The characters themselves live in fantasy and life ultimately loses all meaning.

The irony here, of course, is that I find myself as one of these characters. While I don't identify with Winston Smith in 1984, I find BNW a painfully real account of life in Western culture, including myself. It is the very fact that we need to live in fantasy that makes us no different from the people in BNW. Our search for pleasure and satisfaction subdues us from doing difficult and challenging things. We end up self-medicating with 'Soma' or sex or work and ultimately only do what we feel comfortable doing.

While I won't suggest an answer here, I do thoroughly recommend the series Black Mirror, written by comedian Charlie Brooker, which tackles topics like this. The show works on many levels, and I suggest reading reviews and finding out a bit about Brooker's life and work to add to the experience.

An Inter-testamental History Lesson

Chapter two in my dissertation on 'The Conflict Between Obedience to God and Obedience to the State in the Book of Revelation' deals with second century Judaism as a backdrop for the political conflict of Christians vs Rome (which is essentially what Revelation is all about). I've found this absolutely fascinating, because as a Protestant my Bible wouldn't normally include deutero-cannonical literature (also known as the Apocrypha), yet a lot of it seems very relevant to understanding the type of attitude that Jesus argued against.

The Macabees by Wojciech Stattler

So here I would like to provide a brief introduction to the history between the OT and the NT for anyone who would like to know a bit about what happened between Ezra/Nehemiah and Jesus.

After the temple was rebuilt under Ezra and Nehemiah between 450 - 425BCE, the ruling Persian empire started to decline and became weaker and weaker. This is when the last books that we have in the Bible were written (1-2 Chronicles and Malachi were also written at this point).

Alexander the Great was born in 356BCE and very quickly expanded the Greek empire to all of Israel's neighbours and including Israel, easily taking over the weak Persian empire. After Alexander died in 323BCE, however, the Greek rule broke down quite quickly, and factions of Alexander's commanders split off in a large power struggle.

During this time the Egyptians (Ptolmaics) attacked and took over Israel from 315 - 198BCE. We don't know much about Israel's history at this point, but some of the Dead Sea Scrolls might have been written at this time.

After the Egyptians grew weak, the Syrians (Seleucids) attacked Israel, but they didn't get as far as Egypt. This happened in 198BCE and they stayed in Israel until 142BCE. During this time the Syrians tried to force the Jews into adopting Greek culture, which was very popular in the area after Alexander's conquests. Some of the Jews joined in whole-heartedly and actually tried hard to gain favour in the eyes of their Greek masters through building gymnasiums. Since the Greeks thought that circumcision was barbaric some Jewish men attempted to undo their circumcision through surgery in order to fit in at the public baths. Others, however, strongly opposed the Greek culture and everything that came with it.

A coin depicting Antiochus IV Epiphanes. The back shows Jupiter and reads, Basileos Antiochou Theou Epiphanous Niketorou, approximately meaning 'king Antiochus: god, revealed, victorious' (let me know if you think I've translated this wrong!).

This tension increased in 167BCE when the Syrians, under Antiochus IV Epiphanes, attacked and completely ransacked Jerusalem. Pigs were sacrificed on the altar to God in the temple, circumcision was made illegal and punishable by death, all copies of the Torah had to be burned and Jews were forced to sacrifice to Antiochus IV and eat pork or be executed. Some Jews followed along, others refused and paid with their lives. Finally, Antiochus set up a statue of Zeus in the Holy of Holies, which seems to be what Daniel described when he spoke of the "abomination that causes desolation" (Dan 9:27, 11:31, and 12:11).

In this context a man called Mattathias and his sons John, Simon, Judas, Eleazar and Jonathan strongly opposed the Syrians and formed a rebel army. They fought for years, and each time one brother died the next one took over the rebel movement. Eventually, through war and political turmoil, these rebels (also known as 'the Maccabees', which comes from the Aramaic word for 'hammer') set up Israel as a free kingdom. This kingdom lasted from 142 - 63BCE and was known as the Hasmonean Dynasty.

But this was not a time of peace, sadly. The most peace the Israelites got was when the last Hasmonean ruler took over from 76 - 67BCE, and she was known as Queen Salome.

In 63BCE the Romans invaded and took over right up to 400CE. During this time the Herodians took over ruling Jerusalem under Roman authority, and Jesus had his ministry in this context. When Herod Agrippa I died in 44CE, Israel was put under the governing of the prefect of Syria and thus ended the rulers of Israel until 1947.

The Enraptured Mind

"we might be wise to follow the insight of the 

enraptured heart rather than the more 

cautious reasonings of the theological mind."[1]

- A. W. Tozer

I’ve recently been reading Tozer’s classic, The Knowledge of the Holy, and came across this sentence. Throughout the work Tozer extensively quotes Frederick W. Faber, and this is his defence for doing so. In many ways I agree with Tozer’s sentiment, and I’m sure that, if pressed, he would clarify this statement, so I by no means wish to be pedantic. Instead, it simply made me think about this apparent dichotomy of worship and theology.

Is such a dichotomy a real distinction? Worship Central teach their students that all Christians are theologians, and I would agree with that. I applaud the Worship Central emphasis on theology because I believe that good theology inspires deeper worship, and good worship deeper theology. However, as a wise woman once said to me, “we might all be theologians, but some are better theologians than others”. 

What I believe Tozer is getting at in this sentence is the tendency for theologians to shy away from complete self-abandonment in an attempt at objective awareness. In this sense, therefore, I wholeheartedly agree that the enraptured heart that has encountered God is far more in tune with the life of the Godhead than the stale academic mind that refuses to be shamed by the unlearned (1 Cor 1:27).

But is there a positive reality? Far be it from me to simply critique if I cannot provide a positive solution!

I believe that genuine theology is done within worship, viz. that the study of God is a spiritual discipline.[2] Theology is very much faith seeking understanding, and the academic pursuit of God is primarily a pursuit. The ‘academic’ nature of it is simply a qualification, making it a sub-category in the art of spiritual discipline. The nature of theology as a sub-category is that it manifests as a outworking of faith: it informs and forms faith, which in turn seeks greater understanding again.

But this circle can also be seen in the discipline of worship. As the Spirit forms us and informs us in worship, so we leave desiring God more, which again leads us to worship him.

Two particular examples of this form of academic faith that I look up to are A. W. Tozer himself, and St. Augustine. Both these men express such deep passion for God in their academic pursuit, so much so that one gets a sense of the worship of God through reading their work. This is not to suggest that others do not engage in this form of theology, but I would argue that what I have aimed to express here is most manifest in the writings of these two men.

For me, Augustine articulates the heart of the theological quest with the words;

“What then do I love when I love my God?”.[3]

---

[1] A. W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy (Kent: STL Books, 1976), 21.

[2] Cf Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy (New York: Harper Collins, 1998).

[3] St. Augustine, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 185.