Nothing New Under The Sun...

I continue to be amazed at the insight and wisdom of the author of Ecclisiastes when he observed that there is nothing new under the sun. This time, the surprise was not a pleasant one.

One of the thrusts of the postmodern world is a growing awareness and desire for community, as well as questioning of the individualistic capitalism that drives the globalization of the world’s economies. Surprisingly, this is not new. Defenders of slavery in the antebellum South did, according to Mark Noll’s book “The Civil War as a Theological Crisis,” in fact, “raise serious questions from Scripture about the moral order of an individualistic and profit-mad economy which they saw as the North’s aggressive alternative to a slave order. In Eugene Genovese’s words, the threat was of ‘a materialistic, marketplace society that promoted competitive individualism and worshiped Mammon’… In that postbellum climate, Southern Christian defenses of patriarchal communalism were fatally compromised by their association with slavery…” (pp 52-53).

Interesting twist on my desires for communalism and less materialism. A tainted desire? I don’t think so. But as Noll points out, war fatigue cut short the theological debates about economic systems which should have been natural at the time of the Civil War. “The result was theological weakness in the face of pressing economic circumstances: while there was a heightened capacity to produce wealth, there was also a heightened capacity to produce alienation and vast economic inequality. These issues were eventually addressed practically by pietists like the Salvation Army and theoretically by leaders of the Social Gospel, yet theological incoherence in the face of modern economic realities has remained a major problem for Christian thinking ever since the Civil War” (pp 53-54).

That sounds like a resounding call to the emerging theologians to continue tackling a growing interest of mine, the theology of economics. May thoughtful Christians everywhere rise up to this challenge.

Double Take (an apologetically lengthy blog entry with lots of quotes)

I have been reading a fascinating book recently. It has really challenged my way of thinking about a lot of things, especially about how I form my views of things, especially homosexuality (not necessarily the conclusions, but how I form my views). For example, read the following passages:

Americans who believed in the Scriptures as unquestioned divine revelation should have been troubled by the growing number of their fellow citizens who seemed willing to live without that belief. The most prominent among those coming to doubt the all-sufficiency of Scripture were savants…, elite literati…, and practitioners of realpolitik… who were turning aside from all a priori authorities, including the Bible. Instead, they were looking to scientific, legal, literary, business, or governmental substitutes to provide the necessary ballast required by what they hailed as an increasingly secular, consumer-oriented, and religiously pluralistic society.

With increasing frequency as the national debate heated up, biblical defenders against homosexuality were ever more likely to perceive doubt about the biblical defense against homosexuality as doubt about the authority of the Bible itself. In the words of Henry Van Dyke… from his pulpit in Brooklyn, “Open and Affirming leads, in a multitude of cases, and by a logical process, to utter infidelity… One of its avowed principles is, that it does not try homosexuality by the Bible; but… it tries the Bible by the principles of love…”

The power of the anti-homosexual scriptural position – especially in a Protestant world of widespread intuitive belief in the plenary inspiration of the whole Bible- lay in its simplicity… Thompson’s message was straightforward: if God through divine revelation so clearly condemned homosexuality… how could genuine Christians attack modern stances against homosexuality as an evil?

It was no coincidence that the biblical stance against homosexuality remained strongest in the United States, a place where democratic, antitraditional, and individualistic religion was also strongest… it was an axiom of American public thought that free people should read, think, and reason for themselves. When such a populace, committed to republican and democratic principles, was also a Bible-reading populace, the anti-homosexual biblical case never lacked persuasive resources… Protestants well schooled in reading the Scriptures for themselves also knew of many other relevant texts…

In Britain, with Bible-believing evangelicals in the lead, scruples supporting a scriptural defense against homosexuality were largely overcome… More generally, Western attachment to ideas of basic human rights, which ironically had been greatly stimulated by… the United States of America, made it increasingly difficult to imagine how prejudice against homosexuals could exist in a modern civilized polity… Christian humanitarianism was trumping biblical traditionalism.

The primary reason that the biblical defense against homosexuality remained so strong was that many biblical defenses for homosexuality were so weak. To oversimplify a complicated picture, the most direct biblical defense of homosexuality were ones that relied on common sense, the broadly accepted moral intuitions of American national ideology, and the weight of “self-evident truth…” More complicated, nuanced, and involved biblical defenses of homosexuality offered more formidable opposition. But because those arguments did not feature intuition, republican instinct, and common sense readings of individual texts, they were much less effective in a public arena that had been so strongly shaped by intuitive, republican, and commonsensical intellectual principles.

Although this debate is worth studying for many reasons, it is pertinent here for how Blanchard advanced the most popular form of the biblical homosexuality argument… Blanchard returned repeatedly to “the broad principle of common equity and common sense” that he found in Scripture, to “the general principles of the Bible” and “the whole scope of the Bible,” where to him it was obvious that “ the principles of the Bible are justice and righteousness.”

These passages fairly clearly lay out two distinct views of homosexuality. One is based on the Protestant and American principles of the primacy and accuracy of the Scripture and of reading Scripture individually and determining the meaning, while the other view is based more on the scope, or arc, of the Bible and the primary principles of mercy and justice. Which side are you on? Which side resonates with you, and which raises your hackles as a shiver runs down your spine? To be honest, I get a shiver of hesitation when I think about arguing not from specific passages but from the “big picture” when so many specific passages address the issue. In other words, I tend to resonate with the structural arguments against homosexuality presented here.

One problem, though. The above arguments were not made regarding homosexuality. They are only slightly modified quotes from Mark Noll’s book “The Civil War as a Theological Crisis.” The arguments against homosexuality are constructed the same way that the arguments for slavery were constructed, while the proponents of the acceptance of homosexuality appeal in the same general way as the anti-slavery leaders of the 1800s, such as William Wilberforce.

Read the passages again, only this time unaltered:

By 1860 Americans who believed in the Scriptures as unquestioned divine revelation should have been troubled by the growing number of their fellow citizens who seemed willing to live without that belief. The most prominent among those coming to doubt the all-sufficiency of Scripture were savants like Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., elite literati like William Dean Howells, and practitioners of realpolitik like William Henry Trescot, who were turning aside from all a priori authorities, including the Bible. Instead, they were looking to scientific, legal, literary, business, or governmental substitutes to provide the necessary ballast required by what they hailed as an increasingly secular, consumer-oriented, and religiously pluralistic society. (p 31)

With increasing frequency as the sectional conflict heated up, biblical defenders of slavery were ever more likely to perceive doubt about the biblical defense of slavery as doubt about the authority of the Bible itself. In the words of Henry Van Dyke… from his pulpit in Brooklyn, “Abolitionism leads, in a multitude of cases, and by a logical process, to utter infidelity… One of its avowed principles is, that it does not try slavery by the Bible; but… it tries the Bible by the principles of freedom…” (p 32)

The power of the proslavery scriptural position – especially in a Protestant world of widespread intuitive belief in the plenary inspiration of the whole Bible- lay in its simplicity… Thompson’s message was straightforward: if God through divine revelation so clearly sanctioned slavery, and even the trade in “strangers,” how could genuine Christians attack modern slavery, or even the slave trade, as an evil? (p 33)

It was no coincidence that the biblical defense of slavery remained strongest in the United States, a place where democratic, antitraditional, and individualistic religion was also strongest. By the nineteenth century, it was an axiom of American public thought that free people should read, think, and reason for themselves. When such a populace, committed to republican and democratic principles, was also a Bible-reading populace, the proslavery biblical case never lacked persuasive resources… Protestants well schooled in reading the Scriptures for themselves also knew of many other relevant texts… (p 34)

Between… the early 1770s and the intensification of American debate over slavery six decades later, circumstances in the North Atlantic world shifted significantly. In Britain, with Bible-believing evangelicals in the lead, scruples supporting a scriptural defense of slavery were largely overcome as the Parliament first outlawed the slave trade… then banned slavery in all British territories… More generally, Western attachment to ideas of basic human rights, which ironically had been greatly stimulated by the founding of the United States of America, made it increasingly difficult to imagine how slavery could exist in a modern civilized polity… Christian humanitarianism was trumping biblical traditionalism. (p 35)

The primary reason that the biblical defense of slavery remained so strong was that many biblical attacks on slavery were so weak. To oversimplify a complicated picture, the most direct biblical attacks on slavery were ones that relied on common sense, the broadly accepted moral intuitions of American national ideology, and the weight of “self-evident truth…” More complicated, nuanced, and involved biblical attacks against slavery offered more formidable opposition. But because those arguments did not feature intuition, republican instinct, and common sense readings of individual texts, the wer much less effective in a public arena that had been so strongly shaped by intuitive, republican, and commonsensical intellectual principles. (p 40)

Although this debate is worth studying for many reasons, it is pertinent here for how Blanchard advanced the most popular form of the biblical antislavery argument… Blanchard returned repeatedly to “the broad principle of common equity and common sense” that he found in Scripture, to “the general principles of the Bible” and “the whole scope of the Bible,” where to him it was obvious that “ the principles of the Bible are justice and righteousness.” (p 41).

What!? Double take. You mean the same way I look to the simplicity of the Bible on the issue of homosexuality is the same way many defended slavery? And the way people advocate for acceptance of homosexuality is the same way people advocated for emancipation and human equality?

Obviously, this is an oversimplification of the issue. I encourage people to read Noll’s book not only for the insight in brings on the Civil War, but the intriguing light he shines on American theological development.

I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea of glossing over specific passages on homosexuality to fit some grand understanding of love and mercy and justice. And I’m certainly not comfortable with espousing a view that legitimates slavery in an effort to “plainly read” specific passages from the bible.

And before anyone says it, I know that the two issues are different (one is a sanction and one is a prohibition), and the issues are more thoroughly debatable on both sides. My goal is not to defend slavery or promote acceptance of homosexuality. Since it is not my purpose, I’m not even going to take a side. My motivation in sharing these quotes is to challenge us to realize how we form our beliefs and how we organize our arguments are just as important as what we believe and what we argue. We must be willing to look at not just our individual beliefs, but also our underlying cultural influences (as Noll points out repeatedly regarding the influence of American republican and democratic ideals on theological interpretations) that led us to those beliefs.

What are you against?

What are you against? It is a rather unusual question. The more common query is “What (or who) are you for?” Whether it be a sports team (Go Bucks!), a flavor of Mountain Dew in their Dewmocracy contest, a religion, or a politician, most people ask the question in the positive form.

Yet, I have become more sensitive to the numerous ways in which people express their feelings, and questions, in the negative form. People are less and less ‘for’ something, and more and more ‘against’ something.

In fact, I was at a church service recently, and was thoroughly surprised (as were many) at the blatantly political message from the pulpit.

I should mention at the start, however, that this congregation is unlike many in the broader Christian world. Generally, this congregation, and its fellowship in general, tends to be very Republican and conservative, but is also careful to keep politics and in most cases even patriotism “separate and apart” from the message of the Good News. I have never seen a flag of any kind on the grounds of any of the churches of this fellowship, much less in the building (Praise God!). Also, this congregation attempts to train and involve as many Christian men as are willing. So, at least one time a month, the elders allow and encourage men of the congregation to sign up to give the sermon. On this night, a young man that I respect greatly was giving the lesson.

He started his sermon most excellently about talking about priorities. Whose priorities are we seeking, our priorities or God’s? He gave several good biblical illustrations of people who sought their own priorities, much to their detriment. He then shifted gears a bit to remind us that this process of seeking God’s priorities extends to politics and the election process. He started by stating, “I’m not going to tell you who to vote for. It’s none of my business.” So far, so good. “But as a Christian, I can tell you who you should not vote for… Nobody who calls themselves a Christian can vote for Obama.” What!? His main reason was Obama’s support for abortion rights. While it is terribly predictable that abortion would be the most important issue for him (and the church in general), I was struck at how he was so blatantly against something, and not for something.

I am for life. In fact, I’m so pro-life that I have serious reservations (not blanket prohibitions) about the death penalty and use of violence to accomplish military and nationalistic goals. I am morally sickened at the rampant use of abortion.

But I am for other things too. In fact, my whole life perspective, my whole theology, is succinctly summarized by Micah 6:8 – “He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” I am for justice and mercy and walking humbly with God. I am about loving people.

In this election, as it always is now a days, I have to wisely seek God’s priorities, because no one individual appears to be “for” the same things my limited understanding leads me to believe are God’s priorities. If I vote for “X”, he will likely align with my views on this one issue. And if I vote for “Y”, he will likely align with my views on these two issues. How do I value these in the process of deciding to vote?

If churches, and really all faith communities, want to address moral issues in the political realm, they should really be addressing how to be wise in making evaluations about what really matters. Which is a higher priority for God? Stopping abortion, or addressing the economic oppression and moral decay that leads to abortion? How should we view personal responsibility in terms of the Christian perspective? What does it mean to oppress the poor, and how does that happen today? These are the types of questions that I wish faith communities would wrestle with.

I wish people would be more worried about what they are for, than what they are against.

Observations from the (Irrational?) Right

I was talking to a family member recently who is a staunch Republican. After some heated discussion about Obama and Palin, and discussion about apparent media bias (he calls ABC the “All Barak Channel,” NBC the “Nearly Barak Channel,” and CBS the “Completely Barak Side”), we had a rather interesting exchange that I think reflects where the American psyche is for many people.

“ ‘Don’t call me Hussein!’ That's what he says. Barak won’t let people call him by his name!”

Antagonistically, and out of frustration, I said, “Because right-wing fear-mongerers use it only to imply that he’s Muslim! And he’s NOT!”

“You don’t know that! How do you know that?”

“Because he’s been going to a Christian church for 20 some odd years! He was married there, baptized there!”

“And it is a hate-mongering anti-American church!”

Another brief exchange: In the course of discussion, I pointed out that he was in Indonesia because his mom worked there. I said, “It is not like at age 8 he was like ‘Oh, I think I’ll go to the Muslim-predominant country of to Indonesia!’”

“Well, there are some questions now… Haven’t you heard? He may not have been born in Hawaii, he may have been born in Indonesia, and may not even be a U.S. citizen!”

I think that such exchanges demonstrate the deep concerns people have… and perhaps it shows how effective media spin (conservative and liberal) is at giving words, concepts, and phrases to deep-seeded, wordless feelings.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t believe for an instant that this family member is racist. Nor is he ignorant. When asked why he just doesn’t watch Fox when he gets angry at the “media bias” on CNN, he stated he likes to hear “the other side.” He may be mistrustful of Muslims, but he is a phenomenally hard working, intelligent man whose work ethic impresses me to this day. Yet, more than anything, I suspect that he simply has a deep mistrust of anything smacking of liberalism, which in his mind is centralization of government, which in turns means taking individual liberty AND individual responsibility away from people.

I can understand that line of argumentation. In fact, I am sympathetic. It frustrates me, however, that he grasps at minor and often outrageous claims to build his case against Obama, instead of building a case for individual liberty and responsibility (with the resultant consequences).

And on that note, of being against something, I will pick up in my next post.

The (Spiritual) State of the Union

So, I'm watching the series premiere of the TV show, Eli Stone. It was a pretty good show. But, wow, I think it is quite the commentary on the state of the nation's spirituality.

I strongly suggest watching this show... at least the first episode. In any case, there is a fascinating exchange between the main character and his "holistic healer." Only slightly paraphrased, the healer suggests:

"Maybe you're a prophet."

"Just one problem... I don't believe in God."

"Sure you do. You believe in right and wrong. You believe in justice. And you believe in love. That's God."

I have heard a lot about the increasing spirituality of the nation (with the concomitant decreasing religiosity). It seems like shows like Eli Stone are helping the nation explore, wrestle, and give shape to their increasingly questioned sense of spirituality.

The show's message seems best summarized in its theme song from George Michael: "You gotta have faith, faith, faith."

Fascinating.

Another Perspective on Intentional Living

Our house church has decided to "adopt a house" through Habitat for Humanity, and we will be trying to work on the same house every Saturday through the Spring and early summer. Our first Saturday was yesterday, and it was great. Last year, I was able to help a couple of times, and I helped drywall and make an overhang. Yesterday, we put the actual roof on... the trusses were already there, but we put the sheets of wood that make up the roof on the trusses, and started to place the tar paper. Since some friends and I had played racquetball for two hours on Thursday, and played Ultimate Frisbee for two hours on Friday, and we worked on the house for seven hours yesterday, needless to say I can barely move today! But it was fun, and we all look forward to working with our hands to help "Alex" and her husband and their family get a new home.

I was sharing my experience of "giving of myself" to my friend Derek last evening. Derek, his wife Mary, and their son, Dylan, have made the intentional choice to live in a "ghetto" part of town in Canton to make a difference in the community. (For some perspective, they live across the street from a prostitute, and their house has been broken into; they come from middle class backgrounds, and they both work.) After telling of my experience, and how I felt like I was actually "practicing" my faith, he gently challenged me to think in other ways. He shared what he did that Saturday. He was working outside his house, and three of the neighbor kids who are being raised by a single mom came over to play with Dylan. It turned out that they were over there for nearly four hours. While Derek did take time to play with them, he also asked them to help him rake leaves and do other yard work - and they did it! He pointed out that they were just looking for attention, and having a "father figure" was a great blessing, so they really enjoy coming over to visit with Derek's family.

Derek went on to share another story about when he and Dylan went down the street to the local school and flew a kite. Two girls rode up on bicycles, and asked who Dylan was. Then they looked at Derek and asked, "Does he have a mommy?" Wow. In this neighborhood, the men who are around often sit on the porches drinking beer; the idea that they would be involved in the care and love of a child, and that two parents would be involved, was almost foreign to these two girls.

Derek's point was obvious. You can give of yourself in many ways. Derek is blessed by being really good with kids. But that is not the main point. Derek and Mary are living intentionally. They intentionally moved to an area where they would be surrounded by people different than themselves. They intentionally open up space in their lives for others to come share in a different way of life. They are intentionally challenging themselves and bridging divides; not just economic, but racial differences, differences in family make-up, etc.

Intentional living is, I think, more important that "intentional community." While intentional community may be involved, or may be the catalyst, it must end in being salt into whatever community you are in. And that just doesn't happen. You have to be intentional about it.

Perhaps someday I will have to ability, strength, resolve, courage, and dedication to move near Derek and Mary and live more intentionally.

God have mercy and patience with me. Amen!

A Minority's Report

I have been thinking a lot recently about group dynamics, especially relating to minorities. I'm not talking specifically about racial minorities; rather, minorities of thought/opinion have been more my focus.

What would a white male offspring of suburban middle-class parents know about minorities? Fair question. That's been part of my ponderings. I first became aware of what it was like to be a minority in medical school. When I chose to pursue Osteopathic Medicine, I chose a minority pathway to becoming a physician. According to the American Osteopathic Association's Osteopathic.org, only 6% of the physicians in the U.S. are DOs. I don't want to go in depth in the history and differences, but that site provides a great overview. Anyway, DOs have been scorned, castigated, ridiculed and segregated in the past. In fact, in the 1960s the American Medical Association (AMA) helped pass a law in California banning Osteopathic Medicine. The former Osteopathic Medical school in California became the University of California, Irvine, School of Medicine. This absorptive process involved granting the MD degree to DOs for $65 so that they could continue to practice... as MDs. Ironically, people later realized that the AMA had acknowledged the equality of DOs with MDs in granting the diploma so easily, and full integration and acceptance developed swiftly thereafter.

While I have never personally be discriminated against (that I know of) for being a DO, it does happen, especially in highly competitive fields and residencies. The Osteopathic profession has struggled for years on how to define ourselves and our relationship to our fellow physicians. Simplified, the issue revolves around identity. If we stress our uniqueness, and treasure our heritage, we risk self-segregating and producing foolish duplication of services and programs. If we pursue complete integration, minimizing our differences, we risk losing our identity and heritage, as people question why there are two types of medical schools and degrees, if they are so similar. This struggle has been a part of the psyche of many minorities throughout history.

I in no way mean to equate being a DO with being a racial minority, or other minorities based on inherent biological factors. But there were huge lessons for me to learn about the issues and discrimination faced by minorities.

Which brings me to my original ponderings. I have found myself more and more in the "minority" opinion on several church issues. Some are theological, some are practical, and some are silly little differences. But as I have pondered my "status" as a minority, and how that makes me feel, I have a deeper understanding of "division" than I have recently.

You see, I have begun understanding why some division/separation occurs. Growing up, I understood division(religiously speaking) to be wrong, but it was also the natural result of "error" and human desire, and therefore was unavoidable. In fact, it was important to maintain. As I emerged from that box of thinking, I began to see division as a lack of understanding. All division could be avoided if everyone took the time to learn the same facts. That seemed woefully inadequate an explanation, and I no longer accepted salvation by "knowledge", so that cause was thrown out. Then I began seeing division mostly as a matter of personality and spiritual pathways. This is my most effective lens with which to currently view division.

But I am beginning to see other factors play a role; one that would have eluded me previously. The role of "minority" can be very taxing. If this is true in terms of thoughts, I can only imagine the burden felt by racial minorities and other "true" minorities. Perhaps another contributing reason for division is simply a need to not be the minority. Regardless of what the issues are or what the reasoning is, there is a very real weight of being a minority. I do not support division. I will continue to work for unity (not uniformity). But I will also acknowledge the weight of minority views, and be more generous as minorities fall back and reconstitute as relative majorities.

So the question is, how can this tendency be counteracted? Can it be counteracted? Should it be counteracted? These questions are of less importance to me personally (because I am often in the majority, and can understand the philosophical construct in which my dissonance is placed), but has much more profound implications for how I relate to others, particularly racial minorities and theological views in groups outside of my home church.

My recent readings in Who's Afraid of Postmodernism? is making it all the more interesting to wrestle with these questions. Hopefully, more on that book later.