Any given religion is better off without the ideas that it is "the one true religion" and the others are not, as if the several religions were engaged in a zero sum contest for religious truth. They need to drop the idea of "the true religion," to stop running "negative ads" about everyone else's religion or lack of religion, and to kick the habit of claiming that their particular body of beliefs is a better fit with what is "out there," as if a religion were like a scientific hypothesis, which is the mistake of the Creationist "scientists." Unlike a scientific theory, there is not one reason on earth (or in heaven) why many different religious narratives cannot all be true. "The one true religion" in that sense makes no more sense than "the one true language" or the "one true poetry," "the one true story" or "the one true culture." While rejecting the modernist idea that science is the exclusive depository of truth, we should have learned something from modernity--post-modern means having passed through and learned a thing or two from modernity--namely, that religious truth is true with a truth that is of a different sort than scientific truth. Religious truth is tied up with being truly religious, truly loving God, loving God in spirit and in truth (John 4:24), and there are more ways to do that than are dreamt of the faithful in the traditional confessions. Loving God in spirit and in truth is not like having the right scientific theory that covers all the facts and makes all the alternative explanations look bad.That last sentence is possibly the catch for some folks. For them, God needs to be provable if their faith is to be worth a damn. God is more like a hypothesis waiting to be tested, than a faith to be cherished and practiced religiously.
Friday, February 23, 2007
True as in Scientifically or True as in Religiously
The following is a quote that I read last night. It is from the philosopher/theologian, John D. Caputo, in his book On Religion. For me, it is a very powerful and sensible statement. For others, I'm sure it will smack of heresy.
Where are the Poor People? Dumped on the Side of the Road
I heard a story about hospitals dumping poor patients on NPR a while back. But this morning I read this article in the NY Times entitled: "‘Dumping’ of Homeless by Hospitals Stirs Debate."
The opening paragraph begins with these words:
Michel Foucault proposed the concept of "biopolitics" and I think that it aptly helps explain this dumping process. Biopolitics is a term that refers (generally speaking) to the modern governing of life. That is, when bare life becomes the politicized object of governmental practice and the health of the people as a whole is sustained through the act of excluding the unhealthy and impure. It is a mode of governing that emerged primarily during the 18th and 19th centuries and continues to help organize much of our everyday lives.
These people being dumped on the side of the street are the objects of exclusion. In the name of efficiency and economical decisions, the hallmarks of neoliberal economics, they are pushed literally out of the hospital and ambulance and excluded from the possibility of care. Care is for those consumers that fit in to the system, for those that can pay their own way and do not become a drag on the whole population. Health and wealth go hand in hand in the context of a neoliberal economic arrangement. Conversely, to be "homeless" and "poor" is in some sense to be the figurative stranger, the outsider on the inside of a consumer-centered polity.
During the NPR story, a women was apparently dumped within eye-shot of a theatre. Imagine the onlookers watching the process. I'm sure some felt guilt pangs and maybe others actually did something about it. But in the end, most probably went into the theatre and watched their show. They too participated in the exclusion. They too joined in complicity with the hospital. We all are complicit in some way. Walking with the flows of crowds, I pass by homeless people everyday. In some sense, I think, we all politicize bare life and we all participate in its exclusion and banishment.
The opening paragraph begins with these words:
For a year, reports have surfaced that hospitals here have left homeless patients on downtown streets, including a paraplegic man wearing a hospital gown and colostomy bag who witnesses say pulled himself through the streets with a plastic bag of his belongings held in his teeth....
Advocates for the homeless said it was common in many cities for homeless people still requiring medical treatment to end up on the street or at the doors of shelters ill prepared for their medical needs.Much attention in this article is focused on the lack of proper laws to protect the poor and homeless people being dumped on the side of the road. But I want to suggest that the law or lack of law is only part of larger way of organizing our social and political relationships.
Michel Foucault proposed the concept of "biopolitics" and I think that it aptly helps explain this dumping process. Biopolitics is a term that refers (generally speaking) to the modern governing of life. That is, when bare life becomes the politicized object of governmental practice and the health of the people as a whole is sustained through the act of excluding the unhealthy and impure. It is a mode of governing that emerged primarily during the 18th and 19th centuries and continues to help organize much of our everyday lives.
These people being dumped on the side of the street are the objects of exclusion. In the name of efficiency and economical decisions, the hallmarks of neoliberal economics, they are pushed literally out of the hospital and ambulance and excluded from the possibility of care. Care is for those consumers that fit in to the system, for those that can pay their own way and do not become a drag on the whole population. Health and wealth go hand in hand in the context of a neoliberal economic arrangement. Conversely, to be "homeless" and "poor" is in some sense to be the figurative stranger, the outsider on the inside of a consumer-centered polity.
During the NPR story, a women was apparently dumped within eye-shot of a theatre. Imagine the onlookers watching the process. I'm sure some felt guilt pangs and maybe others actually did something about it. But in the end, most probably went into the theatre and watched their show. They too participated in the exclusion. They too joined in complicity with the hospital. We all are complicit in some way. Walking with the flows of crowds, I pass by homeless people everyday. In some sense, I think, we all politicize bare life and we all participate in its exclusion and banishment.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Christianity and Culture
In "Keeping Current With The Culture," Bill White says
Mr White offers four strategies for studying contemporary culture but not being shaped by it.
Listen to Non-Christian Radio
Watch Commercials
Study Their Bible (e.g. Entertainment Weekly)
Find a Culture Coach (e.g. a 'non-Christian,' or what he calls 'Normal People')
I hate to break it to Mr. White, but culture is more than popular and it can't simply be reduced to something bad and impure. Mr. White, whether he knows it or not, participates in a subculture--not even a subculture in the US, a fairly dominant culture in fact. Understanding what it means to be an evangelical Christian is perhaps the first sign that one is operating within this cultural matrix.
To quote The Interpretation of Cultures, by the late Clifford Geertz, an anthropologists that made his living studying culture, "culture consists of socially established structures of meaning" that makes members' actions intelligible to those participating in that (sub)culture.
So, here is another way of seeing Mr. White's actions.
Mr. White participates in a subculture, or a structure of meaning, in which it is intelligible for fellow members (particularly those engaging in preacherly discourse) to understand their actions as outside culture.
I would argue that Mr. White is not literally getting outside culture. I mean, if he were outside culture, then no one could understand what he means. He would be unintelligible to fellow preachers and to me--his words would be akin to a strange language or dialect of clicks and grunts that make no sense. But since he makes sense to us and to evangelical preachers around the world, we can see that Mr. White is participating in a culture.
In drawing a clear boundary between Christians on the one hand and non-Christians (or 'Normal People') on the other hand, Mr. White is asserting a division between inside and outside. This set of actions helps define the cultural identity community in which Mr. White participates in relation to Others--namely popculture. In his discourse, then, we see that popculture is a figure of difference and Otherness against which Mr. White organizes himself and speaks for/with a community of evangelical preachers. Mr. White is not outside culture. Rather, he is performing a cultural script that makes a lot of sense to evangelical preachers.
The idea seems to be that culture is bad or denigrating to the word of God and that all culture is popular culture. As the subtitle to Mr. White's piece allows, this is "How to study the contemporary world without being shaped by it." The suggestion is that Mr. White is not part of the contemporary world.How many of these terms can you identify? Metrosexual. Bennifer. Blogging. G-Unit. Is it hard to stay on top of the constant stream of culture swirling around you? (Metrosexual: a heterosexual who embraces much of homosexual culture; popularized by the wildly successful TV show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Bennifer: the movie star couple Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez. Blogging: a Blog is a web log (an online journal); blogging is using your online journal for the purposes of criticism, which then has extensive influence because web search engines link to them. G-Unit: The band of top-selling rapper 50 Cent.)
If we are to be like the men of Issachar "who understood the times and knew what Israel should do" (1 Chronicles 12:32), we need to study the culture. Here are a few pointers on how to catch the culture in order to bridge the gap from the unchanging gospel to the contemporary world.
Mr White offers four strategies for studying contemporary culture but not being shaped by it.
Listen to Non-Christian Radio
Watch Commercials
Study Their Bible (e.g. Entertainment Weekly)
Find a Culture Coach (e.g. a 'non-Christian,' or what he calls 'Normal People')
I hate to break it to Mr. White, but culture is more than popular and it can't simply be reduced to something bad and impure. Mr. White, whether he knows it or not, participates in a subculture--not even a subculture in the US, a fairly dominant culture in fact. Understanding what it means to be an evangelical Christian is perhaps the first sign that one is operating within this cultural matrix.
To quote The Interpretation of Cultures, by the late Clifford Geertz, an anthropologists that made his living studying culture, "culture consists of socially established structures of meaning" that makes members' actions intelligible to those participating in that (sub)culture.
So, here is another way of seeing Mr. White's actions.
Mr. White participates in a subculture, or a structure of meaning, in which it is intelligible for fellow members (particularly those engaging in preacherly discourse) to understand their actions as outside culture.
I would argue that Mr. White is not literally getting outside culture. I mean, if he were outside culture, then no one could understand what he means. He would be unintelligible to fellow preachers and to me--his words would be akin to a strange language or dialect of clicks and grunts that make no sense. But since he makes sense to us and to evangelical preachers around the world, we can see that Mr. White is participating in a culture.
In drawing a clear boundary between Christians on the one hand and non-Christians (or 'Normal People') on the other hand, Mr. White is asserting a division between inside and outside. This set of actions helps define the cultural identity community in which Mr. White participates in relation to Others--namely popculture. In his discourse, then, we see that popculture is a figure of difference and Otherness against which Mr. White organizes himself and speaks for/with a community of evangelical preachers. Mr. White is not outside culture. Rather, he is performing a cultural script that makes a lot of sense to evangelical preachers.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Asserting the Present and Settling the Past
This morning on the Baptist Press News, Rev. Henry Blackaby opens with these words:
The act of saying that history is "settled" is a conservative move to hold in place a particular interpretation that one happens to be fond of. To say that it is "settled," is another way of saying that there is no debate, no disagreement, no alternative views, not chance for re-reading "what has been." Any close reading of the data, historical works on the topics of faith and God or the Bible itself, reveals a number of different possible readings.
Rev. Blackaby seems to be trying to stabilize a particular interpretation of faith and God. One that no doubt sustains his reading of the Bible--because, of course, we shouldn't assume that Rev. Blackaby is attempting to undermine his own faith in the vision of God that he articulates.
Faith is constituted by history. Rev. Blackaby fails to see this, because history for him is "settled," which is another way of saying the struggles out of which this history grew, has been forgotten or at least downplayed. Rev. Blackaby apparently sits at the edge of history--"in the present." And like the historical struggle that he has forgotten, Rev. Blackaby does not see his role, his effort in carrying forth this particular interpretation of faith and God. Rev. Blackaby does not recognize his concrete effort in the "present" to maintain a specific interpretation.
We are all carriers of some history. We all bring some history with us into the present. And with that effort, we contribute to the struggle that made that history the history and not just one of the many histories that could have been.
Faith, or belief, can only operate in the present. It takes no faith to believe what has been –- that’s settled. Likewise, it takes no faith to believe what God can do, for with God all things are possible. Faith functions in what you believe God is going to do right now.The assertion that "It takes no faith to believe what has been--that's settled" is an interesting rhetoric because it works to close down the possibility of re-thinking "what has been." Contrary to Rev. Blackaby's claim, history is the site of much struggle over just what did happen. Historical revision and the emergence of new primary source data continually challenge the dominant interpretations of "what has been." History, in other words, is far from "settled."
The act of saying that history is "settled" is a conservative move to hold in place a particular interpretation that one happens to be fond of. To say that it is "settled," is another way of saying that there is no debate, no disagreement, no alternative views, not chance for re-reading "what has been." Any close reading of the data, historical works on the topics of faith and God or the Bible itself, reveals a number of different possible readings.
Rev. Blackaby seems to be trying to stabilize a particular interpretation of faith and God. One that no doubt sustains his reading of the Bible--because, of course, we shouldn't assume that Rev. Blackaby is attempting to undermine his own faith in the vision of God that he articulates.
Faith is constituted by history. Rev. Blackaby fails to see this, because history for him is "settled," which is another way of saying the struggles out of which this history grew, has been forgotten or at least downplayed. Rev. Blackaby apparently sits at the edge of history--"in the present." And like the historical struggle that he has forgotten, Rev. Blackaby does not see his role, his effort in carrying forth this particular interpretation of faith and God. Rev. Blackaby does not recognize his concrete effort in the "present" to maintain a specific interpretation.
We are all carriers of some history. We all bring some history with us into the present. And with that effort, we contribute to the struggle that made that history the history and not just one of the many histories that could have been.
Monday, February 19, 2007
"Rapture Threat Level Orange"
On the Simpson's this evening....Homer screeches into the church parking lot and the billboard reads: "Rapture Threat Level Orange."
Two narratives are tied together here. One is biblical and the second is a national security metaphor.
They come together well to illustrate the peculiar relationship between the church and the state, which are two great institutions that give order and meaning to the modern American political and social landscape. Historically speaking, both the church and the state can be seen to evangelize fear and pronounce a condition of insecurity. It was during the eighteenth century that the state institutional complex assumed this role from the church and became the dominant institution of the two. Now, as the cartoon sign suggests, the metaphors of church are instrumental to the metaphors of national security and the state. Yet they continue to work co-constitute a sense of fear and public anxiety.
Two narratives are tied together here. One is biblical and the second is a national security metaphor.
They come together well to illustrate the peculiar relationship between the church and the state, which are two great institutions that give order and meaning to the modern American political and social landscape. Historically speaking, both the church and the state can be seen to evangelize fear and pronounce a condition of insecurity. It was during the eighteenth century that the state institutional complex assumed this role from the church and became the dominant institution of the two. Now, as the cartoon sign suggests, the metaphors of church are instrumental to the metaphors of national security and the state. Yet they continue to work co-constitute a sense of fear and public anxiety.
Iraq: A Money Pit
I've heard self-described economic conservatives say to the effect: "yeah, the US educational system has problems, but throwing money at it won't help."
Its funny and sad to watch many of the same economic conservatives justify throwing money at Iraq. Iraq has become a money pit.
Its funny and sad to watch many of the same economic conservatives justify throwing money at Iraq. Iraq has become a money pit.
Congress was told at least $10 billion of $57 billion for Iraq reconstruction contracts has been squandered by contractors or has disappeared without explanation. Federal auditors caution the figure is likely to go higher. The Associated Press reported the figure is nearly triple the amount of waste reported by the Government Accountability Office last fall....Imagine what a few pallets of shrink wrapped cash distributed to American schools would do for the educational system--particularly if there were no consequential oversight. Would any economic conservative in their right mind OK that? Well, maybe, if Haliburton or Kellog, Brown and Root contracted out the teachers and administrators.
This rip-off brings to mind Paul Bremer's riposte to querulous congressmen about the fate of $12 billion in cash disbursed by his Coalition Provisional Authority. There are no perfect solutions in a war zone, Bremer said. He and his minions let 363 tons of money in shrink-wrapped blocks of $400,000 skitter through their fingers with barely a fare-thee-well.
Friday, February 16, 2007
The Great "Is" in Who "Is" Jesus?
In chapter one of his book, In Quest of Jesus, W. Barnes Tatum argues that Jesus has been framed by four general narratives.
1). Jesus the Dying Savior
2). Jesus the Example
3). Jesus the Monk or Mystic
4). Jesus the Troublemaker
In the part of the United States that I hail from, the frame announced most often is Jesus the Dying Savior. If people are talking of Jesus, then they are usually talking about the saving grace of Jesus. The three other frames are downplayed.
Obviously, though, these four frames are not the only ways that J
esus is talked about. If we move down the ladder of abstraction and examine talk more closely and concretely, we can see a number of different views of Jesus articulated. Recently, for instance, Jesus as a "manly man" has resurfaced. (You can find some examples here and here). The narrative of the manly, man Jesus recalls the well worn T-shirt images that loudly announce: "The Lord's Gym."
A much more commonplace narrative that frames Jesus is Jesus as Christian. This frame of Jesus is deeply entrenched. It is implicit to the Jesus as manly man, Jesus as savior, Jesus as example, Jesus as monk, Jesus as troublemaker. They all presupose Jesus as Christian. But historically speaking and Biblically speaking, Jesus as Christian is not quite accurate. The historical Jesus was a peasant Jew. He was crucified as "The King of the Jews." And moreover, we see in the book of Acts that it was not until Antioch that followers of Jesus were called "Christian." Let me make the point clearly, Jesus was not a "Christian." The followers of Jesus framed him as a "Christian" well after his death and that tradition lives on today. It is a living tradition so deeply entrenched that it has achieved a level of commonsense and thus remains largely unquestioned.
I make this point not to directly challenge anyone's faith, but to open up space for alternative views of what it means to follow Jesus. Too often, I fear, minority views of Jesus are pushed aside by the dominate frames. I just want to make some space for difference, for alternative interpretations. That is, afterall, agency--to do otherwise.
The great "Is," as it were, is a contextual and institutional achievement of our time and place.
1). Jesus the Dying Savior
2). Jesus the Example
3). Jesus the Monk or Mystic
4). Jesus the Troublemaker
In the part of the United States that I hail from, the frame announced most often is Jesus the Dying Savior. If people are talking of Jesus, then they are usually talking about the saving grace of Jesus. The three other frames are downplayed.
Obviously, though, these four frames are not the only ways that J
esus is talked about. If we move down the ladder of abstraction and examine talk more closely and concretely, we can see a number of different views of Jesus articulated. Recently, for instance, Jesus as a "manly man" has resurfaced. (You can find some examples here and here). The narrative of the manly, man Jesus recalls the well worn T-shirt images that loudly announce: "The Lord's Gym."A much more commonplace narrative that frames Jesus is Jesus as Christian. This frame of Jesus is deeply entrenched. It is implicit to the Jesus as manly man, Jesus as savior, Jesus as example, Jesus as monk, Jesus as troublemaker. They all presupose Jesus as Christian. But historically speaking and Biblically speaking, Jesus as Christian is not quite accurate. The historical Jesus was a peasant Jew. He was crucified as "The King of the Jews." And moreover, we see in the book of Acts that it was not until Antioch that followers of Jesus were called "Christian." Let me make the point clearly, Jesus was not a "Christian." The followers of Jesus framed him as a "Christian" well after his death and that tradition lives on today. It is a living tradition so deeply entrenched that it has achieved a level of commonsense and thus remains largely unquestioned.
I make this point not to directly challenge anyone's faith, but to open up space for alternative views of what it means to follow Jesus. Too often, I fear, minority views of Jesus are pushed aside by the dominate frames. I just want to make some space for difference, for alternative interpretations. That is, afterall, agency--to do otherwise.
The great "Is," as it were, is a contextual and institutional achievement of our time and place.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
The Practice of Extraordinary Rendition, or, How "We" Come to Resemble "Them"
Recently much has been written about the practice of extraordinary rendition. This is the extra-judicial procedure which involves the sending of untried criminal suspects deemed 'terrorist' to countries other than the United States for imprisonment and interrogation.
Perhaps the most famous of these incidents involve Maher Arar, a Syrian-born Canadian citizen that was detained at Kennedy International Airport on 26 September 2002 by the US Immigration and Naturalization Service. He was taken to Jordan and then Syria, where he was interrogated and tortured by Syrian intelligence. Arar was eventually released a year later. The Canadian government lodged an official complaint with the US government protesting Arar's deportation. On September 18 2006, a Canadian public enquiry presented its findings entirely clearing Arar of any terrorist activities.
Much attention to this practice has centered on the legality of the issue. I want to talk a moment about how the practice shapes who "we" are or are becoming.
Underlying my discussion is the presupposition that identity is performed and not something that is lodged in "us." How does this practice define "us" as a polity?
The practice of extraordinary rendition, I will suggest, implies a logic of similarity or resemblance between what "we" do and what "they" do. Much rhetoric goes into defining "them" as "evil" and defining "us" as "freedom loving Americans." But this practice undermines that difference. It is a practice that makes "us" look like "them." And it is a practice that undermines "our" claim to the moral and legal high ground. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, maybe it is a duck. Similarly, if the US government kidnaps and tortures people, perhaps it too is terroristic.
If we look at the history of the word "terrorism," we see that the word emerged out of the context in which the government was doing just that--ruling through a reign of terror. It has since been inverted. It is now commonplace to frame terrorists as groups attacking the state. But we should not forget this history. The state and the territory it rules over is often subject to terrorism, a terrorism justified in the name of national security. That is, a terrorism justified in "our" name. That is basically my view of extraordinary rendition--state sanctioned terrorism in "our" name. Before long, "we" come to resemble "them."
What are we fighting for again? I think "we" are forgetting and in that process, "we" start to resemble "them."
Perhaps the most famous of these incidents involve Maher Arar, a Syrian-born Canadian citizen that was detained at Kennedy International Airport on 26 September 2002 by the US Immigration and Naturalization Service. He was taken to Jordan and then Syria, where he was interrogated and tortured by Syrian intelligence. Arar was eventually released a year later. The Canadian government lodged an official complaint with the US government protesting Arar's deportation. On September 18 2006, a Canadian public enquiry presented its findings entirely clearing Arar of any terrorist activities.
Much attention to this practice has centered on the legality of the issue. I want to talk a moment about how the practice shapes who "we" are or are becoming.
Underlying my discussion is the presupposition that identity is performed and not something that is lodged in "us." How does this practice define "us" as a polity?
The practice of extraordinary rendition, I will suggest, implies a logic of similarity or resemblance between what "we" do and what "they" do. Much rhetoric goes into defining "them" as "evil" and defining "us" as "freedom loving Americans." But this practice undermines that difference. It is a practice that makes "us" look like "them." And it is a practice that undermines "our" claim to the moral and legal high ground. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, maybe it is a duck. Similarly, if the US government kidnaps and tortures people, perhaps it too is terroristic.
If we look at the history of the word "terrorism," we see that the word emerged out of the context in which the government was doing just that--ruling through a reign of terror. It has since been inverted. It is now commonplace to frame terrorists as groups attacking the state. But we should not forget this history. The state and the territory it rules over is often subject to terrorism, a terrorism justified in the name of national security. That is, a terrorism justified in "our" name. That is basically my view of extraordinary rendition--state sanctioned terrorism in "our" name. Before long, "we" come to resemble "them."
What are we fighting for again? I think "we" are forgetting and in that process, "we" start to resemble "them."
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Where the Hell is Hell? Orthodox and Heretical Interpretations
This morning I ran across the blog Out of Ur, a discussion site hosted by the editors of the Leadership Journal. What caught my eye was the article, "Loving the Hell Out of People," a piece originally published in Prism--America's Alternative Evangelical Voice and written by Shane Claiborne. In particular, I'm interested in his interpretation of hell. To quote the end of the article, Shane says
The logics of these two interpretations of hell, what I will call the concrete hell on earth and the metaphysical hell, clash. This clash is evidenced by some of the critical comments that followed Shane's article. Take one as an example:
To see Shane talking a similar line as Rev. Pearson is heartening. Different interpretations are active, but there are clearly consequences to articulating views of hell that do not parallel more entrenched views. To put this in over-simplified and over-generalized terms, the logics at work in this clash inform modernist and postmodernist worldviews. It will be interesting to see how these interpretations play out over time.
For myself, talk of hell as a metaphysical locale where souls burn makes little sense. Hell on earth is concrete. We can see the "gnashing of teeth" all around us. There is little reason to quicken our metaphysical imaginations less we wish only to obscure what is front of our faces.
God is in the business of rescuing people from the hells they experience on earth. And God is asking us to love people out of those hells.To myself, what Shane says make a lot of sense insofar as for many people hell is right here on earth. But this interpretation flies in the face of more traditional and entrenched interpretations of hell. For many Bible believers, hell is a place the unsaved go after they die. It is a place where spirits burn in torment, not a physical locale.Nowadays many of us spend a lot of time pondering and theologizing about heaven on earth and God’s Kingdom coming here (and rightly so!), but it seems we would also do well to do a little work with the reality of hell. Hell is not just something that comes after death, but something many are living in this very moment… 1.2 billion people that are groaning for a drop of water each day, over 30,000 kids starving to death each day, 38 million folks dying of AIDS. It seems ludicrous to think of preaching to them about hell. I see Jesus spending far more energy loving the “hell” out of people, and lifting people out of the hells in which they are trapped, than trying to scare them into heaven. And one of the most beautiful things we get to see in community here in Kensington, is people who have been loved out of the hells that they find themselves in—domestic violence, addiction, sex trafficking, loneliness.
The logics of these two interpretations of hell, what I will call the concrete hell on earth and the metaphysical hell, clash. This clash is evidenced by some of the critical comments that followed Shane's article. Take one as an example:
well, there's alot that could be said about this post, but one point is obvious: you can't have your exegesis two ways. You can't talk about Jesus describing people who refuse to be loving toward others as going to a place of torment after they die and then switch your metaphor to rescuing people out of pitiful situations. Maybe it was Jesus who said "unless you are converted you will all likewise perish." 2000 years of Christianity have agreed with the teachings of Christ and the apostles that spiritual rebirth by faith in Christ is essential. As you love people in word and deed the fact that without Christ there is a place of eternal torment for all humans because of their rebellion against God has to come into play at some point.This clash is evidenced further in a far more consequential way in the case of Rev. Carlton Pearson. I commented on the differences between Orthodox and Heretical biblical interpretations a few months back. To quote from that post
He [Carlton Pearson] began preaching that hell was not a transcendent place. Hell was here on earth--we make our own hell here on earth. This was a revelation Pearson had--while holding his grand-daughter one afternoon he saw a documentary on the Rwandan genocide and all the death and destruction that man waged against man. After prayer, he understood that hell was man made.Rev. Pearson was formally defined as a Heretic. Evangelicals that had long called him friend and colleague shunned him and refused the possibility of this alternative interpretation.
To see Shane talking a similar line as Rev. Pearson is heartening. Different interpretations are active, but there are clearly consequences to articulating views of hell that do not parallel more entrenched views. To put this in over-simplified and over-generalized terms, the logics at work in this clash inform modernist and postmodernist worldviews. It will be interesting to see how these interpretations play out over time.
For myself, talk of hell as a metaphysical locale where souls burn makes little sense. Hell on earth is concrete. We can see the "gnashing of teeth" all around us. There is little reason to quicken our metaphysical imaginations less we wish only to obscure what is front of our faces.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Ted is Cured
Ted Haggard is cured. A number of news articles have been published over the past or week or so quoting Mr. Haggard as saying that he is "completely heterosexual." In his words, he was "acting out" and his man-loving and meth-taking was not a "constant" activity.
Is Ted's activity a problem in general? Or, is Ted's activity a problem in particular? By this I mean to say that given the community of people Ted hung with, Evangelical Christians, his behavior became a problem. If he would have been an Episcopalian, this behavior (at least the man-loving) would not have been such a problem.
This fact points to the locality, or specificity, of the problem of sexuality. Sexuality, in other words, is not the problem per se, the problem is the community and how the community understands sexuality. Evangelical Christian communities can thus be seen as laying a trap for those members that struggle with their sexuality. For, in this community, there is only space for one kind of relationship--the "traditional family" with one man, one women and how many ever kids. Step outside this "traditional family" arrangement and consequences follow, as Rev. Ted and his removal from leadership attests.
Personally, I find it difficult to imagine that Ted is cured, because I'm not sure what he would be cured of. But more than him being cured, his community is in the process of being cured. How? Ted was expelled. The curing, or more precisely, the purifying occurs through the expulsion of the impurity.
Is Ted's activity a problem in general? Or, is Ted's activity a problem in particular? By this I mean to say that given the community of people Ted hung with, Evangelical Christians, his behavior became a problem. If he would have been an Episcopalian, this behavior (at least the man-loving) would not have been such a problem.
This fact points to the locality, or specificity, of the problem of sexuality. Sexuality, in other words, is not the problem per se, the problem is the community and how the community understands sexuality. Evangelical Christian communities can thus be seen as laying a trap for those members that struggle with their sexuality. For, in this community, there is only space for one kind of relationship--the "traditional family" with one man, one women and how many ever kids. Step outside this "traditional family" arrangement and consequences follow, as Rev. Ted and his removal from leadership attests.
Personally, I find it difficult to imagine that Ted is cured, because I'm not sure what he would be cured of. But more than him being cured, his community is in the process of being cured. How? Ted was expelled. The curing, or more precisely, the purifying occurs through the expulsion of the impurity.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Hanging From a Cross of Iron: The Economics and Politics of War-Making
Today I read a Congressional Quarterly article on the Bush administration's budget plans for the upcoming fiscal year of 2008. The proposed budget is about $2.9 trillion. Where does the money go? Well, lets see.
$245 billion are alloted to war-making in Afghanistan and Iraq.
$700 billion total for security related spending, which comes to about $2,300 per US resident and has basically doubled since Bush came to office.
Balancing the budget was also an important theme. How was this done? Primarily, this was accomplished by cutting Medicade and Medicare spending, which would save an estimated $252 billion over the next decade. In other words, the burden is placed on the poor and the elderly.
This whole budget reminds me of a comment President Eisenhower made many years ago:
But war-making gives us meaning. War helps us clearly define whom we are by differentiating whom we are not. In some ways, two wars are being waged. One war is external, the "war on terrorism." This external war helps define the Nation. The second war is being waged internally against far less threatening Others. This internal war helps differentiate hierarchically those elite at the top from those at the bottom.
$245 billion are alloted to war-making in Afghanistan and Iraq.
$700 billion total for security related spending, which comes to about $2,300 per US resident and has basically doubled since Bush came to office.
Balancing the budget was also an important theme. How was this done? Primarily, this was accomplished by cutting Medicade and Medicare spending, which would save an estimated $252 billion over the next decade. In other words, the burden is placed on the poor and the elderly.
This whole budget reminds me of a comment President Eisenhower made many years ago:
Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities. It is two electric power plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population. It is two fine, fully equipped hospitals. It is some fifty miles of concrete pavement. We pay for a single fighter plane with a half million bushels of wheat. We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than 8,000 people. This is, I repeat, the best way of life to be found on the road the world has been taking. This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron. [...] Is there no other way the world may live?President George W. Bush apparently has no problem hanging American children, the elderly and the poor from a cross of iron and steel.
But war-making gives us meaning. War helps us clearly define whom we are by differentiating whom we are not. In some ways, two wars are being waged. One war is external, the "war on terrorism." This external war helps define the Nation. The second war is being waged internally against far less threatening Others. This internal war helps differentiate hierarchically those elite at the top from those at the bottom.
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