2013-02-09T17:36:30-05:00

Someone shared a link the other day to a blog post which Don Burrows wrote a couple of years ago, about Paul's letter to the Romans, and in particular the interpretation of the “clobber passage” in chapter 1 in the context of the letter as a whole. I shared the link on Facebook, but wanted to not only share the link here as well, but dig deeper into the subject.

The blog post asks who the “man” is that is addressed in the vocative at the start of the section which, in modern Bibles, is numbered so as to be the beginning of a second chapter (such divisions are not in the Greek text).

An interesting and plausible suggestion is that the man who is addressed at the start of chapter 2 is the same man who had been speaking in the previous section, Romans 1:18-32.

The views voiced there would then not be those of Paul (unsurprisingly, since the one holding them is condemned!) but of another figure.

I had come close to this idea in thinking about the passage in the past, suggesting that Paul at this point begins speaking in a style and with a content that is not his own. Imagine Marcus Borg preaching a sermon in which he briefly adopts the rhetoric and language of a conservative preacher, only to then turn the condemnation of others which is typical in such preaching back on those who offer it, in order to make his point.

But I decided today to look into the possible evidence for this in more detail. Consulting a work like A New Reader's Lexicon of the Greek New Testament is one way of getting a sense of how many words in this passage are rare or unique. But using BibleWorks 9 also proved especially helpful. As Paul piles on the insults aimed at the character of Gentiles, in a manner typical of Jewish polemic in Romans 1:29-31, BibleWorks was able to tell me something that other sources did not: just how many words are not merely rare, but the only instances of Paul using the word among the entirety of the authentic epistles. Here is a particularly concentrated string of Pauline hapax legomena:

πεπληρωμένους πάσῃ ἀδικίᾳ πονηρίᾳ πλεονεξίᾳ κακίᾳ, μεστοὺς φθόνου φόνου ἔριδος δόλου κακοηθείας, ψιθυριστάς (Rom 1:29 BNT)

Why is Paul's language so different here? One plausible explanation is because he is mimicking the speech of one or more others. Indeed, it is not impossible to envisage him actually drawing on some other person's well-known tirade against Gentiles in order to make his depiction of that position particularly relevant and poignant, quite possibly specifically that in Wisdom of Solomon 12-14.

And so, the rhetorical turn indicated by the vocative at the start of chapter 2, the move to condemn the speaker voicing the point of view articulated in chapter 1, and the distinctive vocabulary do all seem to reinforce this point: The views articulated in Romans 1:18-32 cannot be treated as Paul's. This doesn't mean that Paul disagreed with all the points, any more than it can be assumed that a Christian and an atheist, or two people of different political parties, will disagree on everything, even when they quote one another polemically or satirically. But it does mean that one ought not to use Romans 1:18-32 to determine Paul's own views. We should rather treat this passage like we do Paul's quotations of the Corinthians in 1 Corinthians. Those phrases may, in some instances, be ones that Paul could be happy with. But we are not always certain that is the case, and we often have reason to think that Paul himself would have preferred to put things differently.

So where does this leave the issue of Paul's thoughts on same sex relations? It seems to render the passage irrelevant, rather like Genesis 19 when interpreted correctly. This is particularly noteworthy, given that some view Romans 1 as the clearest example of Pauline condemnation of same-sex relations!

I'll refrain from prolonging the discussion further, and hope that this will soark discussion in the comments section. What do readers think? Is it safe to conclude that the use of Romans 1 as a clobber passage in the modern era is problematic not merely because of contemporary concerns, but because of exegetical considerations internal to the text itself?

 

2013-01-25T08:54:44-05:00

In three or four unrelated conversations, I have had completely different people respond to something that I said about social justice, or theological liberals like Martin Luther King Jr., with objections that brought abortion into the discussion, even though it had not been mentioned. It was as though the reasoning was:

1) All liberals (whether morally, politically, economically, or theologically liberal seems not to matter – anyone who uses the term is lumped together) support abortion

2) MLK would not have supported abortion

3) Therefore MLK was not a liberal

And of course, in those discussions unrelated to MLK, the “logic” seemed to be rather something like the following: “You favor socialized health care, or are theologically liberal, therefore you must support abortion, therefore I can dismiss everything you say on every topic.”

Of course, the logic is faulty, since not everyone who is a theological liberal, or an economic liberal, or a political liberal, adopts the same view of abortion.

But nevertheless, if it is going to keep coming up, and potentially distracting from other topics, I guess I had better talk about abortion.

The topic is one that came up in my class on religion and science last semester, too, and I suggested that a perspective like that of process philosophy or theology might be more useful than one which looks to define an unchanging, static essence of personhood or humanity, and then tries to figure out when that essence is present.

Let's consider the focus of the subject, the life that is growing with the womb, by beginning at the end and beginning of the process. On one end of the spectrum, we have a baby being born. Once that baby is born, no one disputes that we are dealing with a human being with rights protected by law. As we move backwards in time, prior to the birth, I know of no one who claims that, just because a baby has not been born yet, it is OK to kill it the day before the anticipated delivery date. You could be forgiven for thinking that this view is widespread, with all the rhetoric of “baby killers” that gets thrown around. And maybe there are people out there who think this. But I have never encountered them, nor have I encountered a situation in which the law adopts this stance. And so if you have been given the impression that that is “what liberals think,” then you have been lied to, or perhaps have deluded yourself without outside assistance. Again, I am not saying that I am sure that no one thinks this. But it is not common and certainly isn't “the liberal viewpoint” on abortion or even “the pro-choice viewpoint.”

On the other end of the spectrum, we have sperm and one or more eggs. When an egg is fertilized, we refer to that as the moment of conception. But at that moment, all that has happened is that one living thing has transferred genetic material into another. One can scarcely make the statement that a fertilized ovum is a “person” in any of the senses in which that term is normally used.

But that is where things get challenging, because that single cell will, in a very large number of instances, develop into an entity that no one disputes is a person.

So why do so many people assume otherwise? I think the reason why many adopt the “life begins at conception” stance is the fact that there is no obvious dividing line at a later stage, and so it avoids messiness, uncertainty, and difficult questions.

But as came up in my class, if we are talking about life, then life was there even before conception. And if we mean not merely life but personhood, it seems not to be there yet, except as a potentiality for the future.

Some have tried to circumvent these difficulties by positing that there is a soul, a spiritual substance, which is inserted by God at conception, conferring the status of personhood at that moment.

Here is why I do not think that makes sense.

Identical twins are the result of a single fertilized egg producing not one person, but two. Unless one wishes to say that they share a single soul, then it is very hard to make the case that the soul of an individual is present from conception. Maybe one could say that the presence of two souls causes the single fertilized ovum to produce two people. But why would someone want to say that, other than as an ad hoc attempt to defend a foreordained conclusion? (And given all the things that can and sometimes do go wrong in the course of embryonic development, would that not inevitably mean that sometimes we end up with people with one body but two souls?) Is any such speculation helpful? Does it really add to our understanding or solve any of the problems related to this topic? And in the end, does it make sense to claim the presence of a key symbol of individual identity at a point when that which is developing could still become more than one individual?

Since a division into two embryos that will become identical twins can occur even up until the 9th day, it is hard to see in what sense one could claim that a zygote or blastocyst is a “person.” Can one person become two people? Were twins once the same person? A transporter accident on Star Trek can of course turn one person into two. But it can also separate out different aspects of the same person, and have other effects which suggest that, however interesting the thought experiments may be that we can engage in on the basis of Star Trek and its imaginary technology, it does not enable us to better answer these questions.

So what is my view? I consider abortion a tragedy at any stage. But I do not consider it equally tragic indifferent of the stage at which it occurs. And I therefore consider it appropriate that the woman who is pregnant be the one to decide whether ending the pregnancy as early as possible is more or less tragic than the possible impact of not doing so. I do not think that anyone actually desires to have an abortion, unless it is as an option weighed against alternatives that they find to be more tragic, whether it be the likelihood of having to drop out of school and thus be unable to care for oneself, much less the child, or the serious possibility that the mother may die resulting the loss of both lives.

The evidence does not support the view that terminating a pregnancy early on is “murder.” And most people, including most conservative Christians, seem to know this deep down. Few of them would like to see the death penalty for those women who get abortions. Most of them consider those who shoot doctors or bomb clinics to be deranged rather than heroic. And what little Biblical evidence there is would support them in this.

As for when to draw the line after which one attributes personhood, I will leave that to medical experts. It will be arbitrary, just like designating 18 as the end of being a minor, or any other milestone. But a dividing line for legal purposes is necessary – again, few would disagree about this, I think.

If the experts advise erring on the side of caution, I would concur. Doing that does not mean placing the dividing line at the moment of conception.

I continue to hope that more people will inform themselves about this topic, and as a result discover that their views fall in between the extremes, somewhere in the middle, where most people find themselves. If there is something particularly frustrating and disheartening about American politics, it is our penchant for pretending that we and those we disagree with are on polar extremes of the range of possibilities. Because of the de facto two-party system, views which are not that different are depicted as, and treated as though they were, polar opposites. This is not to say that we do not genuinely disagree – just that, if people actually talked to one another, they would realize that there is much that we can agree upon, and around which we can intelligently disagree, if we get beyond stereotypes and the attempt to force everyone to view a matter that is not clear cut exactly as we do.

I invite readers of this blog to get started on that discussion!

Other interesting posts on this topic from around the blogosphere include:

Bruce Gerencser blogged about false claims regarding Roe vs. Wade, writing:

Culture warriors like Walker have no problem lying, fudging, or distorting facts to advance their agenda. They lose all credibility when they do so. We need to have a serious debate in America about abortion, but how can we as long as one side of the debate lies and calls all who disagree with them murderers guilty of human rights abuse?

He, Theresa Johnson, Jerry Coyne, and Hemant Mehta all drew attention to a case in which a Catholic hospital argued against the personhood of fetuses in order to avoid having to pay out compensation.

Libby Anne blogged about a book by Jonathan Dudley, which offers an interesting historical perspective on Evangelical views concerning abortion and fetuses, and which includes this statement:

Evangelicalism has defined itself by weakly supported boundary markers, which are justified by a flawed understanding of biblical interpretation and maintained by suppressing those who disagree.

Bob Seidenstickter also blogged about pro-life claims about personhood, with a link to a post about the stance of a variety of Protestant churches only decades ago. See also an interesting conservative Evangelical response.

Fred Clark calls on Evangelical men to stop lying about women's reproductive issues, and also blogged about Roe vs. Wade.

Red Letter Christians has a post on the need to be consistently pro-life, “from the womb to the tomb.”

On a more distantly related note, Chad has a great post about the different sorts of marriage that are and are not discussed in the Bible.

 

2013-01-13T08:10:50-05:00

I find it both sad and laughable at the same time that both Protestants and Catholics are claiming that they are being persecuted when their views are no longer taken for granted by others, or they are not given access to a particular platform to promote their views.

Having recently completed a study of the Book of Revelation in my Sunday school class, the persecution of Christians during the reign of Nero is the first of many instances of real, genuine persecution that comes to mind.

Nero blamed Christians for the fire in Rome, and as a result Christians were killed, often horrifically.

Compare the past half a century and down to today. Christians have been involved in some genuinely horrific acts. Child molestation – and covering it up. Opposing racial integration. Picketing funerals. It makes peddling lies and undermining education seem minor by comparison, but some Christians have done that and continue to do that too, and much else besides.

What's my point? Today one would not have to invent trumped up charges against Christians in order to persuade people to persecute us. There are enough instances of evil perpetrated by those who wear the label, that it would be easy to tar us all with the same brush.

Yet where are the mobs trying to lynch us? Where are the crowds determined to make us into living torches set alight? Despite there being things that at least some Christians have actually done, which could lead to legitimate outrage, there are still no executions of those associated with the organizations involved.

American Christians have no idea what they are talking about when they cry persecution. And as someone married to a Romanian, and thus who experienced something which, if still not like Nero's time, was far more truly persecution than what most Americans have ever experienced, I do not find it merely inaccurate. I find it offensive. It is cheapening the term and thereby minimizing the plight of those who really do face persecution.

American Christians seem to desire persecution. And that is understandable, since the Bible says that those who truly follow Jesus and stand for righteousness will be persecuted.

The appropriate response is not to cry persecution even when not suffering it. That doesn't fool anyone.

The appropriate response is to ask what you could do to actually stand against injustice and for righteousness. Maybe if you stood in the way of big corporations and wealthy power brokers trampling on the powerless, you would find out what persecution means. Maybe if you stood with the oppressed instead of trying to get in bed with the powers that be to share in their worldly power in order to oppress others, you would realize that there are those who do face persecution, bullying, enslavement, and many other horrors in the world – and that you may have at least contributed to the climate that allows that to continue.

Maybe then, you'll have taken up your cross and begun to follow the crucified Messiah.

 

2012-10-19T18:57:03-04:00

Via Gawker (HT Joel Watts on Facebook) I heard a brief speech before the Springfield City Council about homosexuality and gay rights, delivered by Rev. Phil Snider of Brentwood Christian Church in Missouri. Listen to it all the way to the end.

UPDATE: Others have since shared the video, including Bob Cargill, who adds some further commentary and discussion.

2016-09-14T20:37:37-04:00

In my freshmen seminar class “Faith, Doubt, and Reason,” we discussed the problem of evil, with the classic statement that (1) divine omnipotence, (2) perfect divine goodness/justice, and (3) the reality of evil are incompatible. Before exploring other possibilities which try to preserve all three, I asked students which they would remove if they had to give up one of the three in order to resolve the problem.

They all chose “3” and I must admit that I was surprised. But it turned out that they didn’t really want to deny the reality of evil – they just couldn’t bring themselves to tamper with the other two.

I pointed out that the approach they adopted seemed to be that of Job’s friends (they had recently read the Book of Job). A student then asked me which I would choose, and I answered “1” with no real hesitation, explaining my reason for my choice: because I cannot deny that there really is evil in the world, and for me, love is more important than power.

Which would you choose, if you had to choose one, and why?

Elsewhere in the blogosphere recently, Frank Schaffer has a blog post in which he wrestles with the image of God that he was indoctrinated with and the question of what to believe about God now. Here is a sampling:

Why am I a nicer person than God? I mean there’s nothing John or my other two children Jessica and Francis could do, let alone my four grandchildren could do to me that would make me condemn them forever. And that brings up another question, then maybe there is no God, or maybe my ideas about that God – or should I say the ideas I was indoctrinated with – were wrong…How to find faith, or even consider God again, when so much of what you’ve touched, let alone have been, is God-awful in the name of God?

Also on this topic is Chris Ayers’ brief post suggesting that Jonathan Edwards’ sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” is the worst sermon in American history. Would you agree or disagree and why? To be clear, I am pretty sure he is addressing its message and not the power of its delivery.

And in somewhat related news, Christians have a great opportunity to practice what Jesus preached (even if it isn’t always what we preach) and show forgiveness towards someone who desecrated a Bible, and insist that we do not want to see someone prosecuted under Egypt’s blasphemy laws for doing so.

But let me return to the title of this post. We think about God in light of our own limited human perspectives. Typically, theists say that God is greater than human beings in all our positive attributes. And so can one ever make a legitimate case for a theist – or an adherent to any other sort of view of God, for that matter – conceptualizing God as less loving, less merciful, or less just than we ourselves are? Isn’t saying “God’s justice isn’t like our justice” a cop out, or worse – in essence saying not that God is more just than we can conceive, but that, in terms of what we mean by “just,”  God is not just at all?

And if so, then don’t we need to rethink how we think about God?

2012-09-13T14:28:47-04:00

Fred Clark posted on his blog asking “What if I’m wrong about the clobber verses?” He is referring to the point, which he considers a valid one, that he could be wrong.

That anyone considers this necessary to point out is itself striking, and says a lot about humanity. There are, alas, people who don’t seem to realize that they could be wrong.

But what I was most struck by was the assumption that, since you might be wrong, the conservative or traditionalist objector’s stance should be adopted as the default position.

That seems to me at best an unjustified assumption, and at worst totally and completely wrong.

Is there any statistic indicating that when the church has stuck to its guns about a traditional viewpoint – or what it believed was a traditional viewpoint – that it has been right more often than not? Are the number of instances where Christians are proud of their traditionalism greater than those which fill us with shame and embarrassment?

This is a major issue I have with the conservative approach to Christianity. Its way of reading Scripture has led to the defense of traditional cultural values or views on scientific matters that just happen to be embedded in texts produced within the context of those values and views – about geocentrism, about slavery, about women, and so on and so on. Again and again, it has produced an interpretation of the Bible, and a praxis based upon it, that Christians have ended up ashamed of with hindsight. Yet those within conservative Christianity never seem to ask whether it is the case that the repeated wrong results indicate that something is fundamentally wrong with their approach to Scripture itself.

I found myself thinking about the aforementioned conservative assumptions when reading Tony Jones’ recent piece, which recalls the scene from the movie War Games in which the computer realizes that the only way to win the game of thermonuclear war is not to play. I think the analogy he makes with pietism works better if viewed differently than he does. Or perhaps, it works better with a reference to lyrics from the Rush song “Freewill”: “If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.”

Conservative Christians view the playing field of contemporary society, and since they cannot know whether accepting gays and lesbians, or drinking wine in moderation, or doing anything that involves nuance, will meet with divine approval, they abstain from making any changes to the way they have come to understand and do things.

But “doing nothing” is still a “course of action” in a very important sense, and most people would agree that, if you lived in Nazi Germany and did nothing, you contributed through your silence to what was unfolding around you. That that is an extreme example doesn’t mean that the principle is any less true on a smaller scale. When you look away when a single blogger is being bullied and their family harassed, and say nothing because you happen to dislike that blogger anyway, or simply don’t care, then the difference is one of degree, to be sure, but not of kind.

And so treating the conservative position, of at least trying not to change (and that itself involves strenuous action and is never entirely successful), as the default seems to me to be precisely the opposite message I get from the New Testament. There they were pioneering, taking risks, translating the message, embracing those previously excluded, and in a variety of ways “turning the world upside down.” That doesn’t seem to me to provide any grounds for the assumption that sticking with the past should be the default approach to Christianity.

Returning to the topic of gays and lesbians that sparked Fred Clark’s post, the key question is this: Why do some people assume that God will be more pleased with risking being insufficiently inclusive than with being too inclusive? Why do they anticipate divine judgment upon being excessively, rather than insufficiently, welcoming, kind, loving, accepting, and many other things which Jesus was accused of inappropriately being towards people in his time.

I think the time has come to say that every stance has the risk of being wrong, whether it is labeled “conservative” or “liberal,” and to say that when it comes down to it, we’d rather risk being wrong by having the courage to change and act positively, than to risk being wrong by going with the default, traditional option.

Isn’t it as a rule better to risk improving things, than riskily wager that the way things are is as good as things can be?

I’ll return to Fred Clark’s post and give him the last word, since he manages to put these points so very powerfully and eloquently, and with just the right dose of sarcasm (and s I really recommend clicking through to read the whole thing):

Risk-reward analysis is a prudent and useful tool for many things, but not for ethics. If you’re contemplating whether or not to accept an invitation to go skydiving, then by all means contemplate the consequences, weigh the potential risks against the potential rewards, and then make your decision. But if you’re contemplating whether or not to do the right thing — whether or not to love — then such considerations really ought not to be part of the equation.

When this sort of calculation takes over ethical decision-making, I’m not sure it even counts any longer as ethics. It’s more like profit-seeking. That’s the dismal effect of the reward-and-punishment framework that has supplanted love as the defining crux of ethics for many Christians. When seeking reward and avoiding punishment shapes our decisions, then love is always displaced and diminished.

This is yet one more reason that Huckleberry Finn ripping up his letter and turning around his raft is, for me, a canonical text. Unless and until one can say, with Huck, “All right, then, I’ll go to hell,” then one will remain incapable of love.

When my inquisitors seek to remind me of the consequences of “what if you’re wrong?” they have a very specific set of consequences in mind. What they really mean, in other words, is not so much “what if you’re wrong?” but “what if we are right?”

So it’s not really a question as much as a statement — another reiteration of their claims in the hope that they might somehow become more persuasive by brute repetition. And along with that statement comes a kind of a threat: “Woe unto them that call evil good.” (Isaiah wasn’t talking about homosexuality there, but was condemning those who “join house to house, who add field to field, until there is room for no one but you.” But the prophet’s phrase and his denunciation in the same passage of “you who are wise in your own eyes, and shrewd in your own sight” are an apt summary of my inquisitors’ criticism of my argument here.)

I appreciate the severity and the gravity of what they’re suggesting, but I have a hard time following how this is supposed to play out. I’m trying to imagine the scenario of my standing before the throne of God on the day of judgment and hearing God say: “Depart from me, for thy mercy and love exceeded mine own, and thou has accorded too much dignity to these, my children.” Or would it just be, “Depart from me, for I was gay and you did not condemn me and demand I repent”?

I mean, I’ve read that scene, so I know what comes after “depart from me” in that story, but that doesn’t help me imagine the script here.

I’m also not frightfully concerned with the supposed spiritual danger to which I’m allegedly exposing LGBT people. I understand the argument — that I should be demanding repentance instead of offering affirmation, that my love must be moreconditional. But let’s face it, if things work the way my anti-gay critics say they do, then those folks are already cosmically screwed and nothing I say or do will really change that. I suppose, if this crypto-Pelagian scheme is correct, that if we really crank up the misery in this world, then there’s a slight chance that a marginal few people might be coerced into the life of self-loathing celibacy that could save their eternal souls. I get the strategy there. But for the vast majority, that can’t and won’t change the unchangeable fact that they’re apparently predestined to God’s special Hell for Queers.

And, well, if that’s what inevitably awaits them in the next life, then the least I can do is try to reduce their misery a bit in this one. It seems kinder to extend to them here the grace that God will ultimately rescind and thus to allow them at least a measure of happiness in this world.

 

2012-08-02T13:59:54-04:00

A lot of people have brought up “freedom of speech” and related phrases in discussion of the current expressions of support for and protest against Chick-fil-A and its CEO Dan Cathy. But freedom of speech is only the issue at one very specific point in the controversy.

No one should be denying the free speech of either Dan Cathy to say what he thinks about homosexuality or what he mistakenly considers to be the “Biblical definition of marriage.” Nor should anyone be denying the free speech of those who disagree with him. And apart from the move – obviously of questionable legality – by a couple of politicians to try to resist the expansion of the food chain into their areas, the very vocal outpouring of opinion on both sides shows that freedom of speech is alive and well.

If some people go to eat at Chick-fil-A to express their support for the chain or its CEO – or simply because they are hungry and think that a boycott is misguided – and if others refrain from eating there, both are free to do so. The United States Constitution does not have, nor does it need, an additional free exercise or establishment clause, stating “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of chicken, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”

The issue of free speech only comes up in one specific area, namely Dan Cathy’s support for at least one organization (to which his donation was relatively small compared to others) that advocates the recriminalization of homosexual acts and brands all homosexuals as pedophiles. The organization in question is known as the Family Research Council.

I am not sure whether any of the other organizations have taken stances for similar things. And just to be clear, in not focusing on the topic in this blog post, I am not saying that the stances that those organizations do adopt, such as opposing the rights of gays and lesbians to marry, are not problematic. I am focusing here on the one organization which I can say with confidence represents a clear threat to freedom of speech. Because gays and lesbians would not be able to be active, vocal participants in the current discussions if they were all considered criminals.

It is at this point that I wish to mention Sally Ride.

The death of this pioneering astronaut brought the revelation to the public that Ride was a lesbian. And it is appropriate to ask why someone who had the courage to be catapulted by tons of volatile rocket fuel into outer space would keep this aspect of her life relatively secret.

To answer that question, one cannot but mention that Sally Ride grew up in an era the younger generation among us today scarcely remembers, if at all. A time when being a female astronaut was controversial enough. A time when being homosexual could lead to not merely harassment but legal prosecution. Even today, there is bullying and much else that should cause everyone in our society dismay.

If you cannot understand that a courageous individual who has been described as a hero could find herself nervous when it came to the prospect of society knowing that she loved a woman as her life partner, then you are probably a heterosexual who has never really spoken to someone who is gay or lesbian, and who simply does not know and cannot imagine what people still go through, and what still haunts those who grew up at a time when their actions were not merely frowned upon but a felony.

That is where I see freedom of speech as an issue in the whole Chick-fil-A hullabaloo, and nowhere else. Supporting the treatment of gays and lesbians as criminals is not compatible with being a free country with protection of freedom of speech, any more than slavery or segregation were. When you are legally viewed as a second-class citizen, you will always find it hard to have the same liberties of speech and in other respects as those upon whom the law looks more favorably. That it took our society a very long time to realize this doesn’t make the arguments in favor of what is “traditional” any more convincing or any less problematic.

And so, in support of freedom of speech, and to encourage discussion of the issue, let me share an image which came to my attention via a Facebook friend.

If you find the image offensive, please exercise your freedom of speech and say so. If you find it apt, please say so. Or if you feel torn, as I do, but like me you at least find the reference to “Cluckalonians” hilarious, then say so. But no one should suggest that an artist does not have the right to tamper with a group’s sacred imagery in order to express themselves. That would be placing freedom of speech in jeopardy. And once anyone’s freedom of speech is in jeopardy, then all of our freedom of speech is in jeopardy.

In closing, let me encourage those who feel inclined to participate in the Chick-fil-A controversies to try to steer the conversations back to where they need to be. The really crucial issue is not what Dan Cathy thinks, but the move by an organization he supports to move the entire nation backwards, towards the revoking rather than the granting of basic civil and human rights to everyone, whether gay or straight, going far beyond freedom of speech to the freedom to love and to express that love without fear of persecution of prosecution.

It would be a terrible thing if that crucial issue gets lost from sight, obscured from view by discussions about the buying and selling of chicken.

2012-07-24T23:38:24-04:00

I am grateful to have been given the opportunity to participate in the Patheos Book Club discussion of Os Guinness’ book A Free People’s Suicide: Sustainable Freedom and the American Future (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2012). The book raises many important issues, and a vibrant challenge to Americans to not allow our republic to go the way of Rome’s. Whether and to what extent the book offers the necessary solutions to the issues it highlights, answers to the questions it raises, or guidance on where to find those solutions and answer, then I can only answer by saying “to some extent yes, and to some extent no.”

Guinness’ book is many things in a single short volume: An appeal by an outsider to Americans who are infamous for ignoring criticisms, particularly from those who are not originally from here; a historical investigation into the thinking of the founding fathers; an appeal to return to roots; a warning about the fate of all empires before our own; and the list could go on. In all of the above, Guinness has interesting, insightful, and provocative things to say.

Early in the book, one of the many threads that will run through it is introduced, the paradox that “the greatest enemy of freedom is freedom” (p.19). This paradox itself has many aspects, not least of which in Guinness’ view is the penchant for liberty to be replaced with mere non-interference in our individual lives, choices, money, etc. Another is the fact that there can be no infinitely unrestrained individual freedom in a truly free society. Otherwise, one person’s unrestrained freedom will quickly work towards the oppression of another. As Guinness puts it on pp.66-67, drawing on Madison,

Unless rival competes with rival, power counteracts power and ambition checks ambition, one person’s unrestrained freedom will be a weaker person’s unrestrained oppression. Then the peaceable kingdom will be impossible. The lamb can never lie down with the lion, for freedom for the lion will mean death for the lamb.

And so, however paradoxically, a truly free society must be ordered, and Guinness focuses specific attention on this second key step in the founders’ work. After winning freedom, the next step has to be ordering freedom, with the third step that which features on the cover and remains for us to accomplish for our generation: sustaining freedom.

And so the book explores the nature of true liberty and how it is to be sustained from one generation to the next. A key, and in my opinion clearly correct, point which Guinness makes is that law alone cannot preserve freedom. If there is no ethical buy-in on the part of the citizens about the nature of freedom and the value in preserving it, law cannot rectify the situation.

Guinness outlines what he calls the “golden triangle” which the founders intended to serve, alongside the system of checks and balances, to safeguard freedom. The triangle, reduced to its points, is that freedom requires virtue, virtue requires faith, and faith requires freedom.

It is probably at the mention of faith that the most controversy is sparked. That sustainable freedom requires a buy-in on the part of citizens regarding the moral value of freedom, and thus what may rightly be described as virtue, I consider fairly uncontroversial. Guinness initially entertains the possibility that the sort of faith that virtue requires might be one that even atheists are capable of bringing to the table (pp.120-122). It is a matter that Guinness leaves somewhat open-ended. His point that atheism’s ability to establish enduring and free societies remains unproven. But it is not clear that the values of the founders are as rooted exclusively in the Christian tradition as Guinness suggests. That they were associated with it, embedded in it, and upheld by it is not in dispute. But Christianity has carried many cultural and ethical values to various parts of the earth, as for instance in the case of British values which were shared by means of the British Empire, through the Christianity it spread as well as by other means.

This should give us pause, especially as Guinness emphasized elsewhere in the book that the colonists were not fighting to gain a freedom they never had, but to defend their freedom as British people who were born freer than most people in their time or in history. A British atheist or Deist of that era would have shared more in common with the values of the founding fathers who were Christians, than might a Christian from another era and cultural-geographical context.

But this, in a sense, simply leads us back to the multifaceted question that is heard throughout the book: what are America’s distinctive values, what are they based on, where are they to be found, whence are they derived, and how can they be sustained and passed on to another generation?

Guinness rightly points out that many Americans have come to value negative freedom – not having one’s own life interfered with – over positive freedom, which is the liberty to do this or that. As a consumer-oriented materialistic culture, we often mistaken consumer choices for liberty.

Even though Guinness seems to go off on something of a tangent in his anti-secularist tirade in chapter 5, his earlier point about faith is not something that should be dismissed as quickly as I am sure some readers may be inclined to. He explicitly includes naturalistic faiths and defines faith as broadly as possible. And in one of the few clear pieces of advice he offers, Guinness suggests that a renewal of liberal education and civic education is a crucial element in sustaining freedom and avoiding decline. Education is based on faith, if by faith we mean convictions that we cannot prove by some objective means. When I challenge my students to encounter viewpoints that they had not previously, and to confront evidence that is likely to challenge their assumptions and worldview, on what grounds do I do so? The conviction that education should not be indoctrination but a broadening of horizons founded on (among other things) critical thinking, what is the basis of that “should”? It may be the experience that so many of us have had that education enriched our lives. But we cannot in the end claim that that amounts to objective proof that education is “good” in some objective sense.

Since education is inherently value-laden, the idea that somehow we must tiptoe around values and virtues in education is something that we really need to get past. There is no education that is value-free. And so we may decide that it is inappropriate and/or illegal, in our context of separation of church and state, to teach students in public schools that homosexuality is OK or is not OK. But we can, we must, teach students that other human beings who are different from them deserve the same respect, the same protection under the law, and the same rights and treatment as themselves. That is a core American value, one which is inherent in not just our founding documents but in the spirit of the nation.

There are points at which I found Guinness truly insightful, and points at which I found myself feeling that his words, like the trailing “unless…” at the end of most chapters, was failing to provide concrete suggestions on how best to address our current situation. And there were times when I wondered whether he was truly providing a vision that focused on American identity and values, offering a rallying cry that can be heeded by those with profound religious beliefs and those who have rejected religion or are apathetic about it, by those whose economic vision for the country leans towards the right or the left.

But if one views Guinness’ book as aimed at getting Americans to seek answers – and to recognize that there are answers we need to seek – then the book should do an excellent job of generating such discussions. At times, Guinness’ way of putting things is eminently quotable, as any text aimed not merely at informing but inspiring must be. For instance, he writes (emphasis mine):

Freedom, then, is never simply privacy or freedom from interference or the right to be let alone. Nor is it simply procedural or only a matter of choice, in which the greater the range of choices, the greater the depth of freedom. An endless proliferation of trivial and unworthy choices is not freedom but slavery by another name. Freedom is not choice so much as right choice, good choice and wise choice. When everything is permissible, no one is truly free, so it is ironic but not accidental that millions in “the land of the free” are in recovery groups from one addiction or another.

In his criticism that many Americans are pursuing as extensive personal liberty as possible and as expansive personal choices as possible, rather than the sort of freedom that represents true liberty, seems to me to be an accurate diagnosis. To be committed to religious liberty, to give one classic example, does not mean either wanting one’s own religion to be allowed everywhere, including in government schools where it can influence those whose background is in other traditions. A commitment to religious liberty means valuing freedom for all, even if only out of a recognition that freedom for all best protects one’s own freedom. A commitment to religious liberty will thus mean accepting limitations on one’s own freedom precisely as a means to guaranteeing equal freedom to all.

Guinness suggests that the current culture war represents a “second freedom war” over divergent visions of freedom (p.147). I think there is some truth in that. But as Guinness indicates elsewhere, there are legitimate criticisms made by people on both sides of the spectrum, and legitimate criticisms to be made of voices and view on all sides. And so the culture war seems to me not so much a fight for or even about freedom, as for the most part controversies that emerge precisely because so few of the voices whose shouts represent the weapons in the conflict seem to have lost the vision for an American which only protects my freedom and my group’s freedom by protecting everyone’s. And if Guinness’ book helps generate conversations that challenge this limited and ultimately selfish view of freedom, then its contribution is absolutely to be welcomed, however much one may disagree with the author on any given point. For in the end, that is the key to freedom – that we revisit our history and preserve that which is worth preserving and which must be preserved for our freedom to continue, and that we engage in conversations recognizing that, as Jesus said in words famously quoted by Abraham Lincoln, “a house divided against itself cannot stand.” Surely all Americans will agree that recent polls and election indicate profound divisions about fundamental matters of economics, government, war, morality, and just about everything. But America has always been diverse, and that we are more so now than ever is a good thing. The crucial question is whether we can agree on a vision of liberty which is rooted in the vision of our forerunners in this American faith that “liberty and justice for all” is realistic and attainable, and can turn that into moral convictions and actions not just as individuals, but as a community which includes the next generation.

2012-07-15T18:30:21-04:00

I shared Ross Douthat’s recent New York Times piece, asking whether Liberal Christianity can be saved, on Facebook, and it has generated quite a lot of response. Let me start by sharing some thoughts of my own, and then share a number of links to blog posts and articles elsewhere that relate to this topic.

First, it seems to me far from a given that conservative Christianity by definition will flourish. It is not as though it is only theologically liberal or socially progressive churches that have seen declines. Hence the title of this post, asking whether there is anything that would lead one to believe that conservatism gives churches more staying power. Many of the dwindling and disappearing institutional churches around Europe are profoundly conservative, and in the case of institutions like the Roman Catholic Church, one has to reckon with the reality that large numbers of adherents maintain a cultural and religious connection with that church, but feel free to individually disagree with its teachings. I hope that in the comments here we’ll see some discussion of whether and to what extent being conservative makes a religion’s persistence more likely. From my own liberal perspective, conservative churches have time and time again found themselves on the wrong side of issues, and yet seem to learn nothing from the experience, viewing the issue of women in ministry, for instance, the same way they viewed slavery, even after they have admitted their forebears were wrong about that issue. They seem not to grasp that the reason why they were wrong about that issue is intrinsically connected to their conservative approach to religion and social norms.

Douthat suggests that there can be a future for liberal Christianity, but it has to be one that sees renewed passion for conservative theology. I disagree – although I realize that only time can tell which of us was right. I think that a church which can embrace those who are theologically conservative, but also those who are theologically liberal, and become passionate about creating conversation between those who disagree, and passionate about the quest rather than adopting a particular stance reflecting a particular stage on the journey. We could even call ourselves “Evangelical Liberals.” We have a good news that we are passionate about proclaiming, and it isn’t about doctrines assent to which allegedly provides eternal fire insurance. Our core liberal convictions should lead us to stand on the front lines against injustice, and create meeting places where passion for our spiritual journeys is fostered, rather than a narrow conservative version which seeks to persuade people that they have already arrived if they just assent with all their heart to a creed or to four spiritual laws or to a particular doctrine of the atonement.

There is a version of Liberal Christianity that it is easy to get excited about. And I am excited about it. Perhaps the time has come for all of those of us who see things in this way to unite, and to take back the identity of Christianity from the loud and prominent self-proclaimed spokesmen (yes, most of them are men) who have so managed to persuade the media and popular opinion that they represent “true Christianity,” that Liberal Christianity has come to be viewed as a half-hearted, half-baked mixture of the traditional and the cultural, which does justice to neither.

But that is not how things stand at all. Those who claim to be “Biblical Christians” are more prone than anyone to conflate their culture’s values (not all of them, to be sure, but many) with “what the Bible says.” And they are prone to miss that there has been liberal Christianity from the very beginning. When Paul set aside Scriptures that excluded Gentiles on the basis of core principles of love and equality, and arguments based on the evidence of God’s Spirit at work in them, he was making and argument very similar to that which inclusive Christians make today. The fact that his argument eventually became Scripture itself should not blind us to the fact that when he made his argument, his words did not have that authority.

So the time has come, I think, for Liberal Christians to get excited, to get active, and to get vocal – not just about the contemporary issues of equality and justice that we feel passionate about, but also vocal about the fact that what we stand for is something that has always been a part of Christianity, even if it has sometimes been forced to the fringes.

In concluding, let me acknowledge (in a manner that many conservatives will probably not reciprocate regarding my point in this blog post) that conservatism has always been reflected in Christianity, too. But it should not be assumed that the more conservative religious people – for instance, those who actively opposed Paul – were somehow by definition “more Christian” or more on target with respect to Christian values and emphases. And so I suspect that non-liberal forms of Christianity will remain with us. The question is more about whether they will continue to take center stage, or like the early conservative Jewish Christianity that opposed Paul’s playing fast and loose with Scripture to allow Gentiles into God’s people, as small pockets that represent a largely irrelevant holdover from a bygone era.

Here are some other posts from around the blogs and the wider web which have caught my attention and which relate to this topic:

Diana Butler Bass suggests that the real question is whether Christianity can be saved.

Kimberley Knight blogged about Lady Gaga, bravery, gays, lesbians and “traditional values.”

John Shore ended a piece about a gay man’s experience with an expression of hope for “a newer, better Christianity.”

Brian LePort offered a round-up on the future of Christian denominations.

Michael Bird decided that it isn’t a good week to be Episcopalian. Chris Brady emphasized that this discussion is not only relevant to the Episcopal Church.

Eruesso chimed in on an earlier topic on this blog, but which relates directly to this one, namely the passing on of religious identities to the next generation. Hemant Mehta touched on the topic too, and suggested that atheists have nothing to worry about.

Andrew McGowan blogged about same-sex marriage. Here is a sample from the rather lengthy piece:

I believe that the Christian Churches must re-assess their traditional attitude to same-sex attraction and to forms of committed relationship between people of the same sex. I take the Bible seriously, but am unconvinced that the (few) negative references to sexual activity between persons of the same sex in scripture are particularly relevant to what we now understand as homosexuality, or that they provide a basis for making moral judgements about committed relationships between gay or lesbian people.

To come closer to home, I think Australian Anglicans must scrutinize the conservative position we have so far maintained in hope of preserving a fragile unity on the issue, and begin asking far more seriously what damage is being done to gay and lesbian members inside our faith communities, and what damage to the Church as far as those outside it are concerned, by prioritizing our own real or perceived institutional concerns over theirs.

Christian Piatt shared some disturbing conservative church signs, and also blogged about a group that has managed to bring conservatives and progressives together – in opposition to them.

Epiphenom blogged about the correlation between education and religiosity across different national contexts.

Blog on the Way highlighted a pastor attempting to keep the outlandish things he says off of YouTube.

Open Parachute tracked clergy and scientist prestige and confidence in institutional religion.

Reba Riley discusses recovery from post-traumatic church syndrome.

Ken Schenck advised against harmonizing the Gospels.

Joel Watts gained some personal insight into the gay agenda.

Daniel Florien offered a quip on why churches don’t have free wi-fi.

 

2012-07-12T08:35:55-04:00

On a long drive, I had the opportunity to have a conversation with my wife and our niece, Dana, about homosexuality from a Christian perspective. In the discussion, a few points came up related to the interpretation of Genesis 2 that I want to share.

On the one hand, many have asked why, if homosexuality is perfectly acceptable, we are given a story about God creating a man and a woman. I think the answer is pretty simple: the narrative logic of the story requires it. If a story was told about a first couple who could not have offspring, say two men or two women, then that first story would also be the last story.

This means that the story being about a man and a woman may be due to narrative constraints rather than concerns to offer a normative model.

On the other hand, the very same story asserts that it is not good for the human being to be alone, followed by the creation of another person so that the two can be life partners with all that entails, including sexual intimacy.

Many conservative Christians have said, in effect, that it is good for gays and lesbians to be alone. Let’s take a closer look and consider the options. If we accept (as the evidence indicates pretty unambiguously) that there are human beings who are sexually attracted to people of the same gender and not to those of the opposite gender, then their options seem to be the following:

1) They can enter into a relationship with someone of the same gender to whom they are attracted.

2) They can enter into a relationship with someone of the opposite gender in spite of not being attracted to them.

3) They can remain celibate.

The pertinent question for those reflecting on the relevance of Genesis 2 to their view of homosexual relations seems to me to be which of the above options you consider to be appropriate for someone attracted to people of the same gender. If you choose #3 or even #2, are you not essentially saying that it is good for such human beings to be alone, to be lonely, to lack the sort of intimacy with another human being Genesis 2 says is good? And if so, aren’t you disagreeing with what are supposedly the words of none other than God in that passage?

 

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