by Joy Carroll Wallis
What can be very difficult in Lent is the wilderness. The wilderness within, or the wilderness we find ourselves in. We may be led quite involuntarily into the wilderness – and not just in Lent. What we call in spiritual speak "the time of testing" can actually feel like desperation, a loss of hope. We may cry out, "where is God?" in the face of random or meaningless suffering, immense stress, depression, illness, debilitating grief, war, and tragic death.
Reading about the temptations of Jesus, his "time of testing" in the wilderness, might offer some guidance. All of Jesus' replies to the devil come from Deuteronomy 6-8 and each temptation is a temptation to sin against the great commandment in Deuteronomy 6:5, to love God "with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might."
Firstly, we read that Jesus was tempted to turn stones into bread. There's a great humanity about this temptation. You have to remember now that he was hungry, he was exhausted; he hadn't eaten for 40 days! This was a temptation to security. Immediate gratification, the quick fix, the easy answer. My kids know all about that temptation! So do I. In my constant efforts to be efficient, I am always looking for the easy, instant solution. On a purely domestic level, it's so tempting to buy the ready-to-serve juice pouches, the individual applesauce pots--but all that excess packaging!
Much of life is like that. We go to great lengths to have an easy life. It can be a daily temptation for us not to discipline ourselves in areas of greed, materialism, or even sensuality. Health and wealth--we want it now. We want God to speak to us now, to guide us now, to heal us now. And Jesus is saying: No, have patience. Be in the wilderness and discover how to rely on God. Simplify your lifestyle, reject the easy answers, and the wilderness journey will start to teach you something about trust in God and how to serve God with your heart, your soul, and your mind.
The second temptation was to power and wealth over and against loving God. Satan showed Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and said, "I will give you their glory and all this authority." He's promised "all the kingdoms of the world"--if he will only bow down to the voice behind the principalities and powers. This is a particularly American temptation, the notion that America is indispensable, the one remaining superpower that is needed by the world. George Bush has given us plenty of reason to believe that he puts his hope in America rather than God and indeed can confuse the two. In his address delivered on the anniversary of September 11, he quoted from John's gospel, "And the light shines in the darkness. And the darkness has not overcome it." The trouble is that he was not referring to the light of the world, Jesus Christ. Rather, he was referring to America and its ideals of freedom and democracy as the light and hope of the world. It's easy to apply this to the administration and to George Bush, but we should also consider how it challenges us--this is especially true for the third temptation.
The third temptation was to the spectacular. Satan took Jesus to Jerusalem, placed him on the pinnacle of the temple and said, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down--the angels will bear you up." This is the temptation to fame, or to the spectacular. Almost four years ago to the day, as many of you were working very hard to stop the war in Iraq from happening, the official Pentagon language was that an attack would leave Iraq and the world in a state of "shock and awe." Three thousand bombs will be dropped in the first week. It doesn't matter about the weather, we'll amaze them with our technology. And America did the spectacular. But it was the devil's temptation, and so much more evil abounds right now because the administration succumbed to that particular temptation.
God's way of transformation is not spectacle, but the patient enduring of the wilderness and the cross. As I said, this temptation can hit home personally too. We can all be tempted to seek God in the spectacular and not in the struggle and the suffering. It's also a challenge for Sojourners, particularly in the face of success, to remain humble.
In his Lenten reflection last year, Jim said, "Humility is difficult for people who think they are, or want to be, 'radical Christians.' Humility is difficult when you're always calling other people--the church, the nation, and the world--to stop doing the things you think are wrong and start doing the things you think are right. Humility is difficult for the bearers of radical messages. When we're always calling other people to repent and change, it's not always easy to hear that message for ourselves. I want to suggest that there is a real and very deep tension between humility and the prophetic vocation."
We can be tempted by the idols of materialism, power and spectacle, in the forms of war, wealth, prestige, and celebrity, just to name a few. But Jesus said, "Away with you Satan! For it is written, 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only God.'" Then the tempter left him, and will leave us, too, if we stand our ground passing with Jesus through the wilderness.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Are Evangelicals Fixated on Homosexuality?
by Tony Campolo
Sigmund Freud would have something to say about the ways in which we evangelicals seem to be fixated on homosexuality. That fixation became abundantly clear to me recently when I was doing radio interviews upon the publication of my most recent book, Letters to a Young Evangelical. The book has 21 chapters, yet on every one of the two dozen interviews that I had on Christian radio stations, I had to spend at least 80 percent of my air time concentrating on the few pages that dealt with homosexuality.
The primary focus of the questioning during these interviews focused on my assertions, based on my own research and a survey of literature on the subject, that nobody has come up with a conclusive explanation of what causes a homosexual orientation, and that it develops so early in the bio-physical and social development of children that it's practically impossible that it could be something that is deliberately chosen. It seemed to me that the interviewers were not willing to accept what I had to say, and wanted me to commit to one of two other options that I believe to be erroneous. The first was the suggestion that the homosexual orientation is the result of poor socialization. This is the commonly held belief among those evangelicals who head up ministries that propose to “deliver” homosexuals and make them into heterosexuals. The most cited version is that a boy overly identifies with a dominant mother, while his father is either absent from the household or is a somewhat weak personality. This theory puts already upset and confused parents of gays on unnecessary guilt trips.
The other theory often proposed in these interviews was that being homosexual is somehow the result of trauma resulting from the gay person being sexually molested as a child.
The reasons for these beliefs were all too obvious to me. If either of these theories had validity, then it could be said that homosexuals who wanted to change could do so by making the decision to be open to the work of God in their lives and getting some good Christian counseling. When I questioned such conclusions, the interviewers usually came back at me by claiming that if I did not accept what they were saying, then I must be implying that the homosexual orientation was inborn. That, to them, was unthinkable because accordingly, this would lead to the assumption that God created homosexuals the way they are, and that we should accept them as such. Over and over, I would have to repeat that nobody knows definitively what establishes same-sex attraction in persons--and again I would have to assert that what we do know is that it is practically never the result of any conscious decision.
The interviewers immediately sensed that I was suggesting that there are no easy answers that we evangelicals can offer to gays and lesbians who ask us about changing their sexual orientation. I added to their anxieties when I went on to say that it is very rare that sexual orientations ever do change. I never say “never” because with God miracles are always possible. I make it clear, however, that barring miracles, we evangelicals have little to offer in the way of positive suggestions for those who are struggling with being homosexual in a homophobic world. In reality, we only have two proposals--celibacy, which is my answer; and monogamous partnerships, which is an answer posed by my wife.
In my book, Letters to a Young Evangelical, I point out that there is an emerging new generation of young evangelicals who are still conservative on their views on homosexual behavior, but refuse to make gay marriage the defining issue that it has become for older Christians. Instead, these young people are more concerned with such issues as poverty, the AIDS crisis, the environment, and war. It is no surprise, therefore, that they take Bono as their model for Christian activism. This rock singer who has raised their consciousness about the crisis in Africa is working hard to eliminate Third World debts. Bono is committed to the causes that young evangelicals deem significant and they are joining with enthusiasm in his crusade to “Make Poverty History.”
In many instances, those in this new generation are even reluctant to accept being called evangelicals. They sense that the label “evangelical” is commonly thought to be synonymous with right-wing politics and suggests a gay-bashing, anti-environmentalist, anti-feminist, and pro-war mindset. Instead, they are increasingly calling themselves Red Letter Christians. This name, of course, associates them with those verses in scripture that record the words that Jesus spoke, which in many Bibles are printed in red. That I affirm this designation and promote this new label in my book often greatly disturbs my interviewers. They quickly remind me that Jesus never mentioned homosexuality. “That’s right!” I respond. “He most likely maintained ancient Jewish laws on the matter, but condemning gays was not on His big-ten hit list, while attacking judgmental religious people was.”
In Letters to a Young Evangelical, I call young people to move beyond the preoccupation with sexual issues that have so absorbed the discussion of the over-50s crowd and coalesce into a new movement that is committed to also include a whole range of other crucial social justice issues. I let them know that while they ought not to neglect sexual issues, they really must move beyond them and overcome the fixation on homosexuality that I found so evident in my recent radio interviews. Embracing a Christianity that deals with the broad spectrum of social concerns that are relevant to living out love and justice in the 21st century is required for an emerging church of young evangelicals. Any other kind of Christianity will prove irrelevant to them.
Sigmund Freud would have something to say about the ways in which we evangelicals seem to be fixated on homosexuality. That fixation became abundantly clear to me recently when I was doing radio interviews upon the publication of my most recent book, Letters to a Young Evangelical. The book has 21 chapters, yet on every one of the two dozen interviews that I had on Christian radio stations, I had to spend at least 80 percent of my air time concentrating on the few pages that dealt with homosexuality.
The primary focus of the questioning during these interviews focused on my assertions, based on my own research and a survey of literature on the subject, that nobody has come up with a conclusive explanation of what causes a homosexual orientation, and that it develops so early in the bio-physical and social development of children that it's practically impossible that it could be something that is deliberately chosen. It seemed to me that the interviewers were not willing to accept what I had to say, and wanted me to commit to one of two other options that I believe to be erroneous. The first was the suggestion that the homosexual orientation is the result of poor socialization. This is the commonly held belief among those evangelicals who head up ministries that propose to “deliver” homosexuals and make them into heterosexuals. The most cited version is that a boy overly identifies with a dominant mother, while his father is either absent from the household or is a somewhat weak personality. This theory puts already upset and confused parents of gays on unnecessary guilt trips.
The other theory often proposed in these interviews was that being homosexual is somehow the result of trauma resulting from the gay person being sexually molested as a child.
The reasons for these beliefs were all too obvious to me. If either of these theories had validity, then it could be said that homosexuals who wanted to change could do so by making the decision to be open to the work of God in their lives and getting some good Christian counseling. When I questioned such conclusions, the interviewers usually came back at me by claiming that if I did not accept what they were saying, then I must be implying that the homosexual orientation was inborn. That, to them, was unthinkable because accordingly, this would lead to the assumption that God created homosexuals the way they are, and that we should accept them as such. Over and over, I would have to repeat that nobody knows definitively what establishes same-sex attraction in persons--and again I would have to assert that what we do know is that it is practically never the result of any conscious decision.
The interviewers immediately sensed that I was suggesting that there are no easy answers that we evangelicals can offer to gays and lesbians who ask us about changing their sexual orientation. I added to their anxieties when I went on to say that it is very rare that sexual orientations ever do change. I never say “never” because with God miracles are always possible. I make it clear, however, that barring miracles, we evangelicals have little to offer in the way of positive suggestions for those who are struggling with being homosexual in a homophobic world. In reality, we only have two proposals--celibacy, which is my answer; and monogamous partnerships, which is an answer posed by my wife.
In my book, Letters to a Young Evangelical, I point out that there is an emerging new generation of young evangelicals who are still conservative on their views on homosexual behavior, but refuse to make gay marriage the defining issue that it has become for older Christians. Instead, these young people are more concerned with such issues as poverty, the AIDS crisis, the environment, and war. It is no surprise, therefore, that they take Bono as their model for Christian activism. This rock singer who has raised their consciousness about the crisis in Africa is working hard to eliminate Third World debts. Bono is committed to the causes that young evangelicals deem significant and they are joining with enthusiasm in his crusade to “Make Poverty History.”
In many instances, those in this new generation are even reluctant to accept being called evangelicals. They sense that the label “evangelical” is commonly thought to be synonymous with right-wing politics and suggests a gay-bashing, anti-environmentalist, anti-feminist, and pro-war mindset. Instead, they are increasingly calling themselves Red Letter Christians. This name, of course, associates them with those verses in scripture that record the words that Jesus spoke, which in many Bibles are printed in red. That I affirm this designation and promote this new label in my book often greatly disturbs my interviewers. They quickly remind me that Jesus never mentioned homosexuality. “That’s right!” I respond. “He most likely maintained ancient Jewish laws on the matter, but condemning gays was not on His big-ten hit list, while attacking judgmental religious people was.”
In Letters to a Young Evangelical, I call young people to move beyond the preoccupation with sexual issues that have so absorbed the discussion of the over-50s crowd and coalesce into a new movement that is committed to also include a whole range of other crucial social justice issues. I let them know that while they ought not to neglect sexual issues, they really must move beyond them and overcome the fixation on homosexuality that I found so evident in my recent radio interviews. Embracing a Christianity that deals with the broad spectrum of social concerns that are relevant to living out love and justice in the 21st century is required for an emerging church of young evangelicals. Any other kind of Christianity will prove irrelevant to them.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Nature
We can never have enough of nature. We must be refreshed by the sight of inexhaustible vigor, vast and titanic features, the sea-coast with its wrecks, the wilderness with its living and its decaying trees, the thunder cloud, and the rain which lasts three weeks and produces freshets. We need to witness our own limits transgressed, and some life pasturing freely where we never wander.
--Henry David Thoreau
--Henry David Thoreau
Public Witness
Because Jesus' teachings are so challenging and radical, it is much more comfortable to focus on a quiet, private, personal relationship with him than it is to follow his teachings that call for a public prophetic witness.
--Alvin Alexi Currier
--Alvin Alexi Currier
Advice for Barack Obama
by Brian McLaren
Thanks for entering the 2008 presidential race. I know a lot of people feel as I do: After several elections where we felt we were left to choose between tired and uninspiring candidates with little fresh to offer except new twists on old electioneering techniques, it seems that in the upcoming primary elections, at least, we will have several exciting options. In both parties, in fact, we may get to choose between a number of fresh, creative, and substantial candidates instead of settling for the lesser of famliar disappointments. I hope that we will feel the same way when it comes down to two candidates in the 2008 presidential elections as well.
No doubt you'll be getting a lot of advice and requests from a lot of people in the coming weeks, and the only reason I think mine deserves to be heard is that I know I'm expressing what a lot of people feel. So I would like to make this request at the beginning of your campaign.
Please don't lie to us. Please forego both the repulsive, deceptive, and twisted lies and also the flattering lies we like to hear. For example, I heard a fellow candidate recently trot out the tired old line, "America is the greatest country in the history of the world." This makes Americans feel good and gets applause. Maybe it wins votes. But it is a lie.
Yes, we are the richest country. Yes, we have the most weapons. Yes, we dominate in many fields, from sports to pop music to movies to pornographic websites to resource consumption and waste production. But the seductive lie of superiority is bad for any nation, including ours. Any nation that keeps telling itself that it is the greatest will become a proud nation (if it isn't already), and pride, I have it on good authority, comes before a fall. Pride makes nations, as
individuals, unpleasant and ugly neighbors, and so candidates make a bad long-term decision when they seek to coddle pride in exchange for votes. If they win, they will preside over a country that their rhetoric has made more ugly and more likely to fall.
Instead of telling us this lie of American superiority, please tell us the truths that we need to hear. Tell us, as you just did in your campaign-launch speech, inconvenient truths * that we and our leaders have a habit of making mistakes and blaming others * whether it's in New Orleans or Baghdad. Tell us the truth about our past * from our own original genocide and ongoing apartheid regarding the Native peoples of this land, to our profoundly unacknowledged and unhealed legacy of slavery and racism, to our failure to care properly for this beautiful part of God's green earth, to our desperate and shameful violations of our own principles and ideals around the world, from Congo to Chile, and from Central America to the Middle East.
Those who say, "Those things are in the past, we should just move on," would never say that about, say, September 11, 2001. Tell us the truth that we have unfinished business, recalling the old proverb that says the one who hides his transgressions will not prosper, but the one who confesses and forsakes them will find mercy. South Africa discovered how a different future is possible when a nation tells the truth about its past, and you could help us have our own time of truth and reconciliation.
And of course, please tell us the truth about the hope that comes through truth-telling. You and John Edwards and several other candidates have already begun inspiring many of us with your hope * audacious hope regarding poverty, environmental healing, and peace. Because, as you say, another world is possible. Many of us dare to hope that, and if you don't tell us the old political lies and instead tell us the inconvenient truth, then our shared emerging hopes
can become a dynamic new reality.
All of us are cynical at times, but in the launch of your campaign, I feel more hopeful and inspired than I have in a long time. Thank you.
Thanks for entering the 2008 presidential race. I know a lot of people feel as I do: After several elections where we felt we were left to choose between tired and uninspiring candidates with little fresh to offer except new twists on old electioneering techniques, it seems that in the upcoming primary elections, at least, we will have several exciting options. In both parties, in fact, we may get to choose between a number of fresh, creative, and substantial candidates instead of settling for the lesser of famliar disappointments. I hope that we will feel the same way when it comes down to two candidates in the 2008 presidential elections as well.
No doubt you'll be getting a lot of advice and requests from a lot of people in the coming weeks, and the only reason I think mine deserves to be heard is that I know I'm expressing what a lot of people feel. So I would like to make this request at the beginning of your campaign.
Please don't lie to us. Please forego both the repulsive, deceptive, and twisted lies and also the flattering lies we like to hear. For example, I heard a fellow candidate recently trot out the tired old line, "America is the greatest country in the history of the world." This makes Americans feel good and gets applause. Maybe it wins votes. But it is a lie.
Yes, we are the richest country. Yes, we have the most weapons. Yes, we dominate in many fields, from sports to pop music to movies to pornographic websites to resource consumption and waste production. But the seductive lie of superiority is bad for any nation, including ours. Any nation that keeps telling itself that it is the greatest will become a proud nation (if it isn't already), and pride, I have it on good authority, comes before a fall. Pride makes nations, as
individuals, unpleasant and ugly neighbors, and so candidates make a bad long-term decision when they seek to coddle pride in exchange for votes. If they win, they will preside over a country that their rhetoric has made more ugly and more likely to fall.
Instead of telling us this lie of American superiority, please tell us the truths that we need to hear. Tell us, as you just did in your campaign-launch speech, inconvenient truths * that we and our leaders have a habit of making mistakes and blaming others * whether it's in New Orleans or Baghdad. Tell us the truth about our past * from our own original genocide and ongoing apartheid regarding the Native peoples of this land, to our profoundly unacknowledged and unhealed legacy of slavery and racism, to our failure to care properly for this beautiful part of God's green earth, to our desperate and shameful violations of our own principles and ideals around the world, from Congo to Chile, and from Central America to the Middle East.
Those who say, "Those things are in the past, we should just move on," would never say that about, say, September 11, 2001. Tell us the truth that we have unfinished business, recalling the old proverb that says the one who hides his transgressions will not prosper, but the one who confesses and forsakes them will find mercy. South Africa discovered how a different future is possible when a nation tells the truth about its past, and you could help us have our own time of truth and reconciliation.
And of course, please tell us the truth about the hope that comes through truth-telling. You and John Edwards and several other candidates have already begun inspiring many of us with your hope * audacious hope regarding poverty, environmental healing, and peace. Because, as you say, another world is possible. Many of us dare to hope that, and if you don't tell us the old political lies and instead tell us the inconvenient truth, then our shared emerging hopes
can become a dynamic new reality.
All of us are cynical at times, but in the launch of your campaign, I feel more hopeful and inspired than I have in a long time. Thank you.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Slaves
Twenty-seven million slaves exist in our world today. Girls and boys, women and men of all ages are forced to toil in the rug looms of Nepal, sell their bodies in the brothels of Rome, break rocks in the quarries of Pakistan, and fight wars in the jungles of Africa. Go behind the façade in any major town or city in the world today and you are likely to find a thriving commerce in human beings.
--David Batstone
--David Batstone
Friday, February 02, 2007
From Plato's Republic
Socrates: "Now, all this study of reckoning and geometry and all the preliminary studies that are indispensable preparation for dialectic must be presented to them while still young, not in the form of compulsory instruction."
Glaucon: "Why so?"
Socrates: "Because, said I, a free soul ought not to pursue any study slavishly, for while bodily labors performed under constraint do not harm the body, nothing that is learned under compulsion stays with the mind."
Glaucon: "True," he said.
Socrates: "Do not, then, my friend, keep children to their studies by compulsion but by play. That will also better enable you to discern the natural capacities of each."
Glaucon: "There is reason in that," he said.
Glaucon: "Why so?"
Socrates: "Because, said I, a free soul ought not to pursue any study slavishly, for while bodily labors performed under constraint do not harm the body, nothing that is learned under compulsion stays with the mind."
Glaucon: "True," he said.
Socrates: "Do not, then, my friend, keep children to their studies by compulsion but by play. That will also better enable you to discern the natural capacities of each."
Glaucon: "There is reason in that," he said.
Free to Begin to Become
Often I am tempted to mold or guide my children while forgetting that there is an essence, a budding life, that I must first nurture and acquaint myself with, before attempting to lead. Socrates words caught my attention for that ingenious combination of simplicity and profundity. How can you guide what you do not know?
As educators we must first create an environment of life where the child feels free to begin to become. Then we must attune our senses to the recognition of the many and varied ways a child can become in order to rightly nurture and care for the way they begin to grow. Once we have "discerned the natural capacities" we can begin to provide a curriculum or environment further suited to those capacities.
This is obviously a very idealistic picture which would be almost impossible to implement on a "mass" scale in our current educational system. But I think Socrates' words speak well of the type of "education" our children need. At this stage it is the educator who is being educated about the child in order to later provide the education the child will need.
--Daniel Kruidenier
As educators we must first create an environment of life where the child feels free to begin to become. Then we must attune our senses to the recognition of the many and varied ways a child can become in order to rightly nurture and care for the way they begin to grow. Once we have "discerned the natural capacities" we can begin to provide a curriculum or environment further suited to those capacities.
This is obviously a very idealistic picture which would be almost impossible to implement on a "mass" scale in our current educational system. But I think Socrates' words speak well of the type of "education" our children need. At this stage it is the educator who is being educated about the child in order to later provide the education the child will need.
--Daniel Kruidenier
Work Has to Work
Americans think that if you work hard and full time, you shouldn't be poor. But 9.2 million American families are. Somebody in all those households works hard, full time, and yet they're all raising their kids in poverty. That's wrong. It's against our theology and it's un-American.
What is at risk here is a genuine opportunity society. It's a "fraud," I would say, when the average CEO of a Standard & Poor's 500 company made $13.5 million in total compensation in 2005, while a minimum wage worker made $10,700. Thirty years ago CEOs made 30 times what their average workers made. Japan and Germany are still at about that ratio. Now in America its 400 to 1--which means the average worker has to work a whole year to make what their boss makes in one day. This is wrong; it's an injustice; it's a theological issue.
The House has acted, now the Senate has decided to act. And when the minimum wage passes, we must then take the next step needed to guarantee that work works in America and provides a family success and security. Those who work responsibly should have a living family income with a combination of a family's earnings, and supports for transportation, health care, nutrition, child care, education, and housing. Tax policies should reward work and family stability. Ownership and job creation is critical. Work has to work in America. It doesn't right now.
--Jim Wallis
What is at risk here is a genuine opportunity society. It's a "fraud," I would say, when the average CEO of a Standard & Poor's 500 company made $13.5 million in total compensation in 2005, while a minimum wage worker made $10,700. Thirty years ago CEOs made 30 times what their average workers made. Japan and Germany are still at about that ratio. Now in America its 400 to 1--which means the average worker has to work a whole year to make what their boss makes in one day. This is wrong; it's an injustice; it's a theological issue.
The House has acted, now the Senate has decided to act. And when the minimum wage passes, we must then take the next step needed to guarantee that work works in America and provides a family success and security. Those who work responsibly should have a living family income with a combination of a family's earnings, and supports for transportation, health care, nutrition, child care, education, and housing. Tax policies should reward work and family stability. Ownership and job creation is critical. Work has to work in America. It doesn't right now.
--Jim Wallis
Thursday, January 25, 2007
An Open Letter to the President
Dear Mr. President:
I was disappointed and frightened by your long-awaited address to the nation on Iraq. Your words will not leave one person in the entire world unaffected. Therefore, I hope you will feel my love and concern in writing. The "new course" that you propose for Iraq is flawed and will lead to disaster. It will bring more death and destruction to friends and enemies alike. Most of all, it leaves God out of the picture.
Mr. President, I respect you deeply. You are daily in my prayers. Even on TV, it is obvious how lonely you must feel, separated from your fellow Americans and from the entire international community. Yet there are millions of people who would love to help you, and pray for you, if only you would reach out to them. This is why I want to reach out to you and humbly ask that, in this moment of world crisis, you lead our nation by putting your trust in God alone and not in our military superiority.
The world is full of fear because of the events that have occurred since our country started the "War on Terror." No one has become any safer.
We cannot ignore the important lessons that are taught to us in the Old and New Testaments. For God is a jealous God. He will not let Himself be mocked. He wants our leaders to lead us in humility and compassion. When King Ahab realized that he had done wrong, he tore his clothes, and put on sackcloth and fasted (1 King 21:27). When Jonah finally preached the word of God to Nineveh, the king himself rose from his throne and laid down his robe, and covered himself with sackcloth and sat in ashes. When God saw this humility, he relented from the disaster that he had planned to bring upon them (Jonah 3).
In Isaiah 1:15-16, the kings of Judah are warned sternly about leaving God out of the equation:
When you spread out your hands in prayer, I will hide my eyes from you. Even if you offer many prayers, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood; wash and make yourselves clean. Take your evil deeds out of my sight. Stop doing wrong.
In the same way, the words of the prophet Obadiah speak directly to this moment:
"Behold, I will make you small among the nations; you shall be greatly despised. The pride of your heart has deceived you, you who dwell in the clefts of the rock, whose habitation is high; you who say in your heart, 'Who will bring me down to the ground?' Though you ascend as high as the eagle, and though you set your nest among the stars, from there I will bring you down," says the LORD. (Obadiah l: 2-4)
Mr. President, you profess to be a man of God. Show the world that the words of the prophets are still true today, and pray with us that God will not forsake our nation even in its darkest moment.
God wants to give more grace. That is why the Apostle James writes, "God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6).
As a pastor who has worked with government officials for years, I feel a special burden for your task, and would strongly desire to meet with you to discuss these matters further.
Respectfully,
Johann Christoph Arnold (Senior Pastor, Church Communities International)
I was disappointed and frightened by your long-awaited address to the nation on Iraq. Your words will not leave one person in the entire world unaffected. Therefore, I hope you will feel my love and concern in writing. The "new course" that you propose for Iraq is flawed and will lead to disaster. It will bring more death and destruction to friends and enemies alike. Most of all, it leaves God out of the picture.
Mr. President, I respect you deeply. You are daily in my prayers. Even on TV, it is obvious how lonely you must feel, separated from your fellow Americans and from the entire international community. Yet there are millions of people who would love to help you, and pray for you, if only you would reach out to them. This is why I want to reach out to you and humbly ask that, in this moment of world crisis, you lead our nation by putting your trust in God alone and not in our military superiority.
The world is full of fear because of the events that have occurred since our country started the "War on Terror." No one has become any safer.
We cannot ignore the important lessons that are taught to us in the Old and New Testaments. For God is a jealous God. He will not let Himself be mocked. He wants our leaders to lead us in humility and compassion. When King Ahab realized that he had done wrong, he tore his clothes, and put on sackcloth and fasted (1 King 21:27). When Jonah finally preached the word of God to Nineveh, the king himself rose from his throne and laid down his robe, and covered himself with sackcloth and sat in ashes. When God saw this humility, he relented from the disaster that he had planned to bring upon them (Jonah 3).
In Isaiah 1:15-16, the kings of Judah are warned sternly about leaving God out of the equation:
When you spread out your hands in prayer, I will hide my eyes from you. Even if you offer many prayers, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood; wash and make yourselves clean. Take your evil deeds out of my sight. Stop doing wrong.
In the same way, the words of the prophet Obadiah speak directly to this moment:
"Behold, I will make you small among the nations; you shall be greatly despised. The pride of your heart has deceived you, you who dwell in the clefts of the rock, whose habitation is high; you who say in your heart, 'Who will bring me down to the ground?' Though you ascend as high as the eagle, and though you set your nest among the stars, from there I will bring you down," says the LORD. (Obadiah l: 2-4)
Mr. President, you profess to be a man of God. Show the world that the words of the prophets are still true today, and pray with us that God will not forsake our nation even in its darkest moment.
God wants to give more grace. That is why the Apostle James writes, "God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6).
As a pastor who has worked with government officials for years, I feel a special burden for your task, and would strongly desire to meet with you to discuss these matters further.
Respectfully,
Johann Christoph Arnold (Senior Pastor, Church Communities International)
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Mad Jesus Skilz
by Shane Claiborne
I've been thinking a lot about the ethos of violence that is spreading like a disease through our world. I just read that TV violence is at a record high, with an average of 13 incidents of violence every hour. News headlines tell of the murders down in New Orleans. Homocides here in Philly and Camden have been happening almost every day. And of course there is Iraq.
I just told a group of graduate students I would like to see them do a study comparing the ethos of violence globally with the violence on the streets here in the U.S. Remember how the Columbine shooting happened on the same day that the Clinton-led U.S. bombed Kosovo most intensively? It's hard to imagine that these recent murders and school shootings are somehow separate from the current escalation of violence by our government. After all, we are wrestling against principalities and powers. These are not just lofty thoughts to ponder, but they are realities that sometimes hit pretty close to home. The only incidents of violence I have experienced in the last 10 years of living here in the inner city have been since the Iraq war. One of them was about a week ago. I am including a little account of it here, mostly because I am really proud of my friend Cassim, and how he handled the situation. I think he has some things to teach those who continue to trust in the myth of redemptive violence.
Cassim and I were walking to the post-office, a walk I take several times a week. It's on the "other side of the tracks," in a neighborhood called Port Richmond, where lots of folks say they want to move to get out of Kensington, where we live. In fact, most locals call Kensington "the Badlands." But I always warn folks to be careful with that, lest they think "nothing good can come out of Kensington." After all, that's exactly what folks said about Nazareth, Jesus' neighborhood. God seems to have a special knack for showing up in the Badlands. After all, there are really good kids here, like Cassim. Cassim is one of the gentle kids, one I hope to never see lose his innocence and trust, or his heart grow hard. He likes cooking with us, gardening, getting beat at Othello--even cleaning the house or doing homework. I've always thought it funny and out-of-character that he is in a boxing club run by some Christians around the corner from us. Christian boxing, hmm.
Cassim is 11 and his mom doesn't let him out a lot, so you can imagine that when we got jumped, I was caught a little off-guard. We were walking down the narrow side street, and some teenaged guys started following behind. You could just feel the mischief brewing, and it grew from two young men to four and then eight, until there was a little mob of sorts. They started calling out some names, throwing rocks and sticks, trying to stir up trouble.
It's always hard on the spot like that to know exactly what Jesus would do. I told Cassim, "Let's go say hi." He looked at me skeptically. We turned back and walked towards them (knowing full well that if we had run we may have made it to the post office). "Hey, I'm Shane. And this is my friend Cassim. We live around the corner," I said with my hand out. They weren't really sure what to do with that. A couple of them shook my hand and introduced themselves. Others snickered. One or two refused the handshake. We said, "Nice to meet you guys," and headed on our walk.
With the wind taken out of their sail a bit, they regrouped, and then continued to build momentum towards a violent brawl. They ran after us, throwing some rocks and bottles, and I noticed two of them now carried a couple of broomsticks from the trash. We picked up the pace a bit, and then I looked at Cassim and said, "No, don't run." We turned back, and before we knew it, one of them clocked Cassim on the side of the head with a stick. I said firmly, "Why would you do that? We haven't done anything to hurt you." They laughed. Then they started hitting me with the broomstick until it broke over my back. At this point I decided to bust out a can of holy anger. I looked them in the eyes and said as forcefully as I could, "You are created in the image of God, every single one of you. And you were made for something better than this. Cassim and I are followers of Jesus and we do not fight, but we will love you no matter what you do to us." That wasn't exactly what they expected or hoped for. They looked at each other, startled a bit; for the first time, they were completely quiet. And then they scurried off in every direction.
I'll never forget what Cassim said afterwords. "Shane, why am I taking boxing lessons?" We laughed at the irony of it, having just experienced a prime chance to implement his mad skilz. I asked Cassim frankly what he thought would have happened if he had chosen to fight. "It would have been ugly," he said. "They might have been bloody and we probably would have been real bloody." No one would have left any nicer, that was for sure.
I asked Cassim if he thought Jesus was happy with how we acted. He thought about it, and then nodded with a smile. I told him that, honestly, I wasn't sure exactly what Jesus would have done if he were in our place; but there are two things I know Jesus would not have done. He would not have fought. And he would not have run. I told him Jesus may have thought of something else, or he may have done something weird to throw them off, as he often seems to do--like drawing in the dirt with his finger (or writing on the road with sidewalk chalk, "you are better than this"), or maybe pulling a coin out of a fish's mouth (or pulling a piece of candy out of a pigeon's mouth). But I think Jesus was happy with how we acted, and that we were good representatives--good witnesses--of Christ to them. Cassim agreed, and then we prayed for them together. And finally, as he was leaving, Cassim reminded me that each of those boys has to go to bed thinking about what they did that day, and so did we.
I'm not sure about those other boys, but Cassim and I both slept well that night and woke up a little sore but happy the next morning. Hopefully Cassim's mom will let him come out of the house.
I have told them that Molotov cocktails and rifles would not solve their problems. But they asked, and rightly so, what about Vietnam? They asked if our own nation wasn't using massive doses of violence to solve its problems. Their questions hit home, and I knew that I could never again raise my voice against the violence of the oppressed in the ghettos without having first spoken clearly to the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today--my own government.
--Martin Luther King Jr.
I've been thinking a lot about the ethos of violence that is spreading like a disease through our world. I just read that TV violence is at a record high, with an average of 13 incidents of violence every hour. News headlines tell of the murders down in New Orleans. Homocides here in Philly and Camden have been happening almost every day. And of course there is Iraq.
I just told a group of graduate students I would like to see them do a study comparing the ethos of violence globally with the violence on the streets here in the U.S. Remember how the Columbine shooting happened on the same day that the Clinton-led U.S. bombed Kosovo most intensively? It's hard to imagine that these recent murders and school shootings are somehow separate from the current escalation of violence by our government. After all, we are wrestling against principalities and powers. These are not just lofty thoughts to ponder, but they are realities that sometimes hit pretty close to home. The only incidents of violence I have experienced in the last 10 years of living here in the inner city have been since the Iraq war. One of them was about a week ago. I am including a little account of it here, mostly because I am really proud of my friend Cassim, and how he handled the situation. I think he has some things to teach those who continue to trust in the myth of redemptive violence.
Cassim and I were walking to the post-office, a walk I take several times a week. It's on the "other side of the tracks," in a neighborhood called Port Richmond, where lots of folks say they want to move to get out of Kensington, where we live. In fact, most locals call Kensington "the Badlands." But I always warn folks to be careful with that, lest they think "nothing good can come out of Kensington." After all, that's exactly what folks said about Nazareth, Jesus' neighborhood. God seems to have a special knack for showing up in the Badlands. After all, there are really good kids here, like Cassim. Cassim is one of the gentle kids, one I hope to never see lose his innocence and trust, or his heart grow hard. He likes cooking with us, gardening, getting beat at Othello--even cleaning the house or doing homework. I've always thought it funny and out-of-character that he is in a boxing club run by some Christians around the corner from us. Christian boxing, hmm.
Cassim is 11 and his mom doesn't let him out a lot, so you can imagine that when we got jumped, I was caught a little off-guard. We were walking down the narrow side street, and some teenaged guys started following behind. You could just feel the mischief brewing, and it grew from two young men to four and then eight, until there was a little mob of sorts. They started calling out some names, throwing rocks and sticks, trying to stir up trouble.
It's always hard on the spot like that to know exactly what Jesus would do. I told Cassim, "Let's go say hi." He looked at me skeptically. We turned back and walked towards them (knowing full well that if we had run we may have made it to the post office). "Hey, I'm Shane. And this is my friend Cassim. We live around the corner," I said with my hand out. They weren't really sure what to do with that. A couple of them shook my hand and introduced themselves. Others snickered. One or two refused the handshake. We said, "Nice to meet you guys," and headed on our walk.
With the wind taken out of their sail a bit, they regrouped, and then continued to build momentum towards a violent brawl. They ran after us, throwing some rocks and bottles, and I noticed two of them now carried a couple of broomsticks from the trash. We picked up the pace a bit, and then I looked at Cassim and said, "No, don't run." We turned back, and before we knew it, one of them clocked Cassim on the side of the head with a stick. I said firmly, "Why would you do that? We haven't done anything to hurt you." They laughed. Then they started hitting me with the broomstick until it broke over my back. At this point I decided to bust out a can of holy anger. I looked them in the eyes and said as forcefully as I could, "You are created in the image of God, every single one of you. And you were made for something better than this. Cassim and I are followers of Jesus and we do not fight, but we will love you no matter what you do to us." That wasn't exactly what they expected or hoped for. They looked at each other, startled a bit; for the first time, they were completely quiet. And then they scurried off in every direction.
I'll never forget what Cassim said afterwords. "Shane, why am I taking boxing lessons?" We laughed at the irony of it, having just experienced a prime chance to implement his mad skilz. I asked Cassim frankly what he thought would have happened if he had chosen to fight. "It would have been ugly," he said. "They might have been bloody and we probably would have been real bloody." No one would have left any nicer, that was for sure.
I asked Cassim if he thought Jesus was happy with how we acted. He thought about it, and then nodded with a smile. I told him that, honestly, I wasn't sure exactly what Jesus would have done if he were in our place; but there are two things I know Jesus would not have done. He would not have fought. And he would not have run. I told him Jesus may have thought of something else, or he may have done something weird to throw them off, as he often seems to do--like drawing in the dirt with his finger (or writing on the road with sidewalk chalk, "you are better than this"), or maybe pulling a coin out of a fish's mouth (or pulling a piece of candy out of a pigeon's mouth). But I think Jesus was happy with how we acted, and that we were good representatives--good witnesses--of Christ to them. Cassim agreed, and then we prayed for them together. And finally, as he was leaving, Cassim reminded me that each of those boys has to go to bed thinking about what they did that day, and so did we.
I'm not sure about those other boys, but Cassim and I both slept well that night and woke up a little sore but happy the next morning. Hopefully Cassim's mom will let him come out of the house.
I have told them that Molotov cocktails and rifles would not solve their problems. But they asked, and rightly so, what about Vietnam? They asked if our own nation wasn't using massive doses of violence to solve its problems. Their questions hit home, and I knew that I could never again raise my voice against the violence of the oppressed in the ghettos without having first spoken clearly to the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today--my own government.
--Martin Luther King Jr.
Holy and Absurd
Most of what we do in worldly life is geared toward our staying dry, looking good, not going under. But in baptism, in lakes and rain and tanks and fonts, you agree to do something that's a little sloppy because at the same time it's also holy, and absurd. It's about surrender, giving in to all those things we can't control; it's a willingness to let go of balance and decorum and get drenched.
--Anne Lamott
--Anne Lamott
Monday, January 22, 2007
Make Them Fight All of Us
by Tom Friedman
I’ve heard the president’s surge speech, and I have a reaction, an observation and some advice.
My reaction to the president’s speech was to recall a line from Bill Maher’s book about the war against terrorists: "Make them fight all of us."
Mr. President, you want a surge? I’ll surge. I’ll surge on the condition that you once and for all enlist the entire American people in this war effort, and stop putting it all on the shoulders of 130,000 military families, and now 20,000 more. I’ll surge on the condition that you make them fight all of us--and that means a real energy policy, with a real gasoline tax, that ends our addiction to oil, shrinks the flow of petro-dollars to bad actors and makes America the world’s leader in conservation.
But please, Mr. President, stop insulting our intelligence by telling us that this is the "decisive ideological struggle of our time," but we’re going to put the whole burden of victory on 150,000 U.S. soldiers.
I’ve heard the president’s surge speech, and I have a reaction, an observation and some advice.
My reaction to the president’s speech was to recall a line from Bill Maher’s book about the war against terrorists: "Make them fight all of us."
Mr. President, you want a surge? I’ll surge. I’ll surge on the condition that you once and for all enlist the entire American people in this war effort, and stop putting it all on the shoulders of 130,000 military families, and now 20,000 more. I’ll surge on the condition that you make them fight all of us--and that means a real energy policy, with a real gasoline tax, that ends our addiction to oil, shrinks the flow of petro-dollars to bad actors and makes America the world’s leader in conservation.
But please, Mr. President, stop insulting our intelligence by telling us that this is the "decisive ideological struggle of our time," but we’re going to put the whole burden of victory on 150,000 U.S. soldiers.
Religious Superiority?
by Brian McLaren
I was recently interviewed by a "secular" journalist who had read some of my books. He said, "Your religion doesn't seem to keep you constantly dividing the world into us and them, in and out, good and bad. Is that legitimate, or is that compromise?"
I explained that as a follower of God in the way of Jesus, I am taught to see every person as my neighbor. The first thing I think upon meeting someone is not, "I wonder if she's a Christian?" but "This is my neighbor. This is a beautiful person, a bearer of the image of God, someone I have the opportunity to know and appreciate and perhaps even serve in some way." Seeing others this way isn't a compromise of my Christian commitment; it's an expression of it, I explained.
The reporter responded humorously, "What good is being religious if you can't feel superior to anybody?" We both laughed, but after the interview, I couldn't stop thinking about the serious point conveyed by his ironic comment.
What is religion for? Is it for creating an in-group that feels superior? Or is it for turning us into neighbors who want to appreciate, love, and serve one another?
Of course next to nobody would ever say overtly that the purpose of their religion is to feel superior. In fact, it just struck me that at this very moment, my act of writing, and your act of reading, could turn us into a kind of elite "in-group" who share the superiority of having one kind of religion over another.
The danger of in-grouping and out-grouping is, I think, subtle, inescapable, and universal, whatever the religion (or irreligion, or political party, or ideology) one holds. No wonder Jesus said, "A tree is known by its fruit;" Paul said, "If I don't have love, I'm nothing;" James said, "Faith without works is dead;" and John said, "Anyone who does not do what is right is not a child of God; nor is anyone who does not love his brother."
Last time I checked, three of the top 10 "religious" books were in praise of atheism and against religion in all its forms. In these times of snarky religious cold wars in some quarters and hot religious violence in others, I'm not surprised. Those of us who see religion in a different light--who see religion as a powerful motivation to care for the widow and orphan, to seek justice and peace, to love our neighbors and our enemies--shouldn't feel superior, but we should keep practicing, and preaching, with humility and focus. It's so easy to get distracted, and a lot is at stake.
I was recently interviewed by a "secular" journalist who had read some of my books. He said, "Your religion doesn't seem to keep you constantly dividing the world into us and them, in and out, good and bad. Is that legitimate, or is that compromise?"
I explained that as a follower of God in the way of Jesus, I am taught to see every person as my neighbor. The first thing I think upon meeting someone is not, "I wonder if she's a Christian?" but "This is my neighbor. This is a beautiful person, a bearer of the image of God, someone I have the opportunity to know and appreciate and perhaps even serve in some way." Seeing others this way isn't a compromise of my Christian commitment; it's an expression of it, I explained.
The reporter responded humorously, "What good is being religious if you can't feel superior to anybody?" We both laughed, but after the interview, I couldn't stop thinking about the serious point conveyed by his ironic comment.
What is religion for? Is it for creating an in-group that feels superior? Or is it for turning us into neighbors who want to appreciate, love, and serve one another?
Of course next to nobody would ever say overtly that the purpose of their religion is to feel superior. In fact, it just struck me that at this very moment, my act of writing, and your act of reading, could turn us into a kind of elite "in-group" who share the superiority of having one kind of religion over another.
The danger of in-grouping and out-grouping is, I think, subtle, inescapable, and universal, whatever the religion (or irreligion, or political party, or ideology) one holds. No wonder Jesus said, "A tree is known by its fruit;" Paul said, "If I don't have love, I'm nothing;" James said, "Faith without works is dead;" and John said, "Anyone who does not do what is right is not a child of God; nor is anyone who does not love his brother."
Last time I checked, three of the top 10 "religious" books were in praise of atheism and against religion in all its forms. In these times of snarky religious cold wars in some quarters and hot religious violence in others, I'm not surprised. Those of us who see religion in a different light--who see religion as a powerful motivation to care for the widow and orphan, to seek justice and peace, to love our neighbors and our enemies--shouldn't feel superior, but we should keep practicing, and preaching, with humility and focus. It's so easy to get distracted, and a lot is at stake.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Purpose of the Gospel
The only purpose of the gospel is to reconcile people to God and to each other. A gospel that doesn't reconcile is not a Christian gospel at all. But in America, it seems as if we don't believe that. We don't really believe that the proof of our discipleship is that we love one another (see John 13:35). No, we think the proof is in numbers ... Even if our "converts" continue to hate each other, even if they will not worship with their brothers and sisters in Christ, we point to their "conversion" as evidence of the gospel's success. We have substituted a gospel of church growth for a gospel of reconciliation.
--John Perkins
--John Perkins
Death Penalty Fuels Crime
by Howard Zehr
I am with a group of men in prison. We are in a seminar I have been leading for some weeks. Most are many years into serving life sentences. One young man, however, expects to be released soon.
We get to talking about justice. "When we were outside," the older men say, "if someone dissed (wronged) us, we had to fight but we didn't have to win. Otherwise, we wouldn't be a man."
"You're out of touch," says the younger man. "If someone disses me, I have to waste them--I have to kill them." His classmates - all of whom have been convicted of taking a life--are appalled.
My argument is this: the death penalty fuels the very phenomenon it claims to suppress. Taking a life--whether on the streets or in the courtroom--is driven by the same motive: to do justice. Both are part of the same cycle of violence.
As we move into this new year, it bears considering that this cycle of violence is what Jesus was trying to break when he preached against vengeance, even when someone is clearly wronged, as Jesus was when put to death. This is not just mushy idealism or preachy Christianity. Actually the lesson Jesus taught is supported by current experience.
In Canada, homicides actually decreased when the death penalty was eliminated. Homicides sometimes rise after executions and homicide rates are often higher in locales that use the death penalty. Why?
Perhaps it is linked to an observation made by James Gilligan, a university-based psychiatrist who treated and studied Massachusetts prisoners for more than 10 years: "All violence is an effort to do justice, or to undo injustice." In my experience, Gilligan's observation rings true--whether it is ordinary street crime or terrorism. Violence reflects a tit-for-tat worldview: it is people giving to other people what they "deserve."
No credible evidence exists that the death penalty deters would-be killers or causes the murder rate to go down. Gilligan offers a possible explanation for why the contrary seems to be true. Rather than undermine a tit-for-tat worldview--as Jesus tried to do--it confirms it. Rather than slowing the cycle, it feeds it.
Giving people what they deserve--death for death--thus does not make rational or empirical sense. But it does make emotional and intuitive sense. In working with victims of crimes over many years, I have come to some understanding of why they wish the one who killed their loved one to suffer. Unlike Jesus who said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," I too feel the urge for vengeance sometimes. But I try to resist the urge to act on this feeling, as I believe our society should similarly resist it.
I don't discount the need for victims to "balance the score." In fact, I think it reflects the human need for making things even. When you receive a gift, don't you feel an obligation to return the favor in most cases? Ironically, the urge to exchange Christmas gifts and the urge to revenge may come from the same instinct: a need for reciprocity or balance. Yet there are other, more life-giving, ways to achieve this sense of reciprocity and justice.
Victims and society at large need validation and vindication after murder or other violent crimes. The death penalty, however, is not the way to accomplish this. In fact, it apparently leads to more murders. What if Jesus had taught the opposite--if he had told his followers to exact an "eye for an eye" for every wrongdoing committed against them? If so, I doubt many of us Christians would be around to celebrate his birth at this season.
I am with a group of men in prison. We are in a seminar I have been leading for some weeks. Most are many years into serving life sentences. One young man, however, expects to be released soon.
We get to talking about justice. "When we were outside," the older men say, "if someone dissed (wronged) us, we had to fight but we didn't have to win. Otherwise, we wouldn't be a man."
"You're out of touch," says the younger man. "If someone disses me, I have to waste them--I have to kill them." His classmates - all of whom have been convicted of taking a life--are appalled.
My argument is this: the death penalty fuels the very phenomenon it claims to suppress. Taking a life--whether on the streets or in the courtroom--is driven by the same motive: to do justice. Both are part of the same cycle of violence.
As we move into this new year, it bears considering that this cycle of violence is what Jesus was trying to break when he preached against vengeance, even when someone is clearly wronged, as Jesus was when put to death. This is not just mushy idealism or preachy Christianity. Actually the lesson Jesus taught is supported by current experience.
In Canada, homicides actually decreased when the death penalty was eliminated. Homicides sometimes rise after executions and homicide rates are often higher in locales that use the death penalty. Why?
Perhaps it is linked to an observation made by James Gilligan, a university-based psychiatrist who treated and studied Massachusetts prisoners for more than 10 years: "All violence is an effort to do justice, or to undo injustice." In my experience, Gilligan's observation rings true--whether it is ordinary street crime or terrorism. Violence reflects a tit-for-tat worldview: it is people giving to other people what they "deserve."
No credible evidence exists that the death penalty deters would-be killers or causes the murder rate to go down. Gilligan offers a possible explanation for why the contrary seems to be true. Rather than undermine a tit-for-tat worldview--as Jesus tried to do--it confirms it. Rather than slowing the cycle, it feeds it.
Giving people what they deserve--death for death--thus does not make rational or empirical sense. But it does make emotional and intuitive sense. In working with victims of crimes over many years, I have come to some understanding of why they wish the one who killed their loved one to suffer. Unlike Jesus who said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," I too feel the urge for vengeance sometimes. But I try to resist the urge to act on this feeling, as I believe our society should similarly resist it.
I don't discount the need for victims to "balance the score." In fact, I think it reflects the human need for making things even. When you receive a gift, don't you feel an obligation to return the favor in most cases? Ironically, the urge to exchange Christmas gifts and the urge to revenge may come from the same instinct: a need for reciprocity or balance. Yet there are other, more life-giving, ways to achieve this sense of reciprocity and justice.
Victims and society at large need validation and vindication after murder or other violent crimes. The death penalty, however, is not the way to accomplish this. In fact, it apparently leads to more murders. What if Jesus had taught the opposite--if he had told his followers to exact an "eye for an eye" for every wrongdoing committed against them? If so, I doubt many of us Christians would be around to celebrate his birth at this season.
King's Radical Message
by Adam Taylor
This weekend, our nation paused once again to remember the life of a modern-day prophet. In pulpits across the country, preachers offered sermons reflecting on Dr. Martin Luther King's seemingly timeless message. While Dr. King's words were quoted across the nation, I fear that the majority of Americans only heard a perfunctory mention of King's dream of racial harmony, with barely a mention of his even bolder words against what he called the "giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism."
Too often our churches are guilty of sanitizing and domesticating King's radical message. We embrace the King of Montgomery, Selma, and Birmingham, while ignoring the King who boldly and courageously opposed the Vietnam War, arguing that "America would never invest the necessary funds or energies in rehabilitation of its poor so long as adventures like Vietnam continued to draw men and skills and money like some demonic destructive suction tube."
This weekend, our nation paused once again to remember the life of a modern-day prophet. In pulpits across the country, preachers offered sermons reflecting on Dr. Martin Luther King's seemingly timeless message. While Dr. King's words were quoted across the nation, I fear that the majority of Americans only heard a perfunctory mention of King's dream of racial harmony, with barely a mention of his even bolder words against what he called the "giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism."
Too often our churches are guilty of sanitizing and domesticating King's radical message. We embrace the King of Montgomery, Selma, and Birmingham, while ignoring the King who boldly and courageously opposed the Vietnam War, arguing that "America would never invest the necessary funds or energies in rehabilitation of its poor so long as adventures like Vietnam continued to draw men and skills and money like some demonic destructive suction tube."
Friday, January 12, 2007
The Gates of Hell
by Shane Claiborne
I figure anytime you are about to talk about hell it's good to start with a joke, so here we go. It was a busy day in heaven as folks waited in line at the pearly gates. Peter stood as gatekeeper checking each newcomer's name in the Lamb's Book of Life. But there was some confusion, as the numbers were not adding up. Heaven was a little overcrowded, and a bunch of folks were unaccounted for. So some of the angels were sent on a mission to investigate things. And it was not long before two of them returned, "We found the problem," they said. "Jesus is out back, lifting people up over the gate."
I remember as a child hearing all the hellfire and damnation sermons. We had a theater group perform a play called "Heaven's Gates and Hell's Flames" where actors presented scenes of folks being ripped away from loved ones only to be sent to the fiery pits of hell where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth, and we all went forward to repent of all the evil things we had done over our first decade of life, in paralyzing fear of being "left behind." The preacher literally scared the "hell" out of us.
But have you ever noticed that Jesus didn't spend much time on hell? In fact there are really only a couple of times he speaks of weeping and gnashing of teeth, of hell and God's judgment. And both of them have to do with the walls we create between ourselves and our suffering neighbors. One is Matthew 25 where the sheep and the goats are separated, and the goats who did not care for the poor, hungry, homeless, imprisoned. are sent off to endure an agony akin to that experienced by the ones that they neglected on this earth. And then there is the story of the rich man and Lazarus, a parable Jesus tells about a rich man who neglected the poor beggar outside his gate.
In the parable we hear of a wealthy man who builds a gate between himself and the poor man, and that chasm becomes an unbridgeable gap not only with Lazarus but with God. He is no doubt a religious man (he calls out "Father" Abraham and knew the prophets), and undoubtedly he had made a name for himself on earth, but is now a nameless rich man begging the beggar for a drop of water. And Lazarus who lived a nameless life in the shadows of misery is seated next to God, and given a name. Lazarus is the only person named in Jesus' parables, and his name means "the one God rescues." 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.
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.
C.S. Lewis understood hell, not as a place where God locks people out of heaven, but as a dungeon that we lock ourselves into and that we as a Church hold the keys. I think that gives us new insight when we look at the parable of Lazarus or hear the brilliant words with which Jesus reassures Peter: "The gates of Hell will not prevail against you." As an adolescent, I understood that to mean that the demons and fiery darts of the devil will not hit us. But lately I've done a little more thinking and praying, and I have a bit more insight on the idea of "gates." Gates are not offensive weapons. Gates are defensive--walls and fences we build to keep people out. God is not saying the gates of hell will not prevail as they come at us. God is saying that we are in the business of storming the gates of hell, and the gates will not prevail as we crash through them with grace.
People sometimes ask if we are scared of the inner city. I say that I am more scared of the suburbs. Our Jesus warns that we can fear those things which can hurt our bodies or we can fear those things which can destroy our souls, and we should be far more fearful of the latter. Those are the subtle demons of suburbia. As my mother once told me, "Perhaps there is no more dangerous place for a Christian to be than in safety and comfort, detached from the suffering of others." I'm scared of apathy and complacency, of detaching myself from the suffering. It's hard to see until our 20/20 hindsight hits us--but every time we lock someone out, we lock ourselves further in. Just as we are building walls to keep people out of our comfortable, insulated existence, we are trapping ourselves in a hell of isolation, loneliness and fear. We have "gated communities" where rich folks live. We put up picket fences around our suburban homes. We place barbed wire and razer-wire around our buildings and churches. We put bars on our windows in the ghettos of fear. We build up walls to keep immigrants from entering our country. We guard our borders with those walls--Berlin, Jerusalem, Jericho. And the more walls and gates and fences we have, the closer we are to hell. We, like the rich man, find ourselves locked into our gated homes and far from the tears of Lazarus outside, far from the tears of God.
Let us pray that God would give us the strength to storm the gates of hell, and tear down the walls we have created between those whose suffering would disrupt our comfort. May we become familiar with the suffering of the poor outside our gates, know their names, and taste the salt in their tears. Then when "the ones God has rescued," the Lazaruses of our world--the baby refugees, the mentally-ill wanderers, and the homeless outcasts--are seated next to God, we can say, "We're with them." Jesus has given them the keys to enter the Kingdom. Maybe they will give us a little boost over the gate.
And in the New Jerusalem, the great City of God, "on no day will its gates ever be shut." The gates of the Kingdom will forever be open. (Revelation 21:25)
I figure anytime you are about to talk about hell it's good to start with a joke, so here we go. It was a busy day in heaven as folks waited in line at the pearly gates. Peter stood as gatekeeper checking each newcomer's name in the Lamb's Book of Life. But there was some confusion, as the numbers were not adding up. Heaven was a little overcrowded, and a bunch of folks were unaccounted for. So some of the angels were sent on a mission to investigate things. And it was not long before two of them returned, "We found the problem," they said. "Jesus is out back, lifting people up over the gate."
I remember as a child hearing all the hellfire and damnation sermons. We had a theater group perform a play called "Heaven's Gates and Hell's Flames" where actors presented scenes of folks being ripped away from loved ones only to be sent to the fiery pits of hell where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth, and we all went forward to repent of all the evil things we had done over our first decade of life, in paralyzing fear of being "left behind." The preacher literally scared the "hell" out of us.
But have you ever noticed that Jesus didn't spend much time on hell? In fact there are really only a couple of times he speaks of weeping and gnashing of teeth, of hell and God's judgment. And both of them have to do with the walls we create between ourselves and our suffering neighbors. One is Matthew 25 where the sheep and the goats are separated, and the goats who did not care for the poor, hungry, homeless, imprisoned. are sent off to endure an agony akin to that experienced by the ones that they neglected on this earth. And then there is the story of the rich man and Lazarus, a parable Jesus tells about a rich man who neglected the poor beggar outside his gate.
In the parable we hear of a wealthy man who builds a gate between himself and the poor man, and that chasm becomes an unbridgeable gap not only with Lazarus but with God. He is no doubt a religious man (he calls out "Father" Abraham and knew the prophets), and undoubtedly he had made a name for himself on earth, but is now a nameless rich man begging the beggar for a drop of water. And Lazarus who lived a nameless life in the shadows of misery is seated next to God, and given a name. Lazarus is the only person named in Jesus' parables, and his name means "the one God rescues." 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.
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.
C.S. Lewis understood hell, not as a place where God locks people out of heaven, but as a dungeon that we lock ourselves into and that we as a Church hold the keys. I think that gives us new insight when we look at the parable of Lazarus or hear the brilliant words with which Jesus reassures Peter: "The gates of Hell will not prevail against you." As an adolescent, I understood that to mean that the demons and fiery darts of the devil will not hit us. But lately I've done a little more thinking and praying, and I have a bit more insight on the idea of "gates." Gates are not offensive weapons. Gates are defensive--walls and fences we build to keep people out. God is not saying the gates of hell will not prevail as they come at us. God is saying that we are in the business of storming the gates of hell, and the gates will not prevail as we crash through them with grace.
People sometimes ask if we are scared of the inner city. I say that I am more scared of the suburbs. Our Jesus warns that we can fear those things which can hurt our bodies or we can fear those things which can destroy our souls, and we should be far more fearful of the latter. Those are the subtle demons of suburbia. As my mother once told me, "Perhaps there is no more dangerous place for a Christian to be than in safety and comfort, detached from the suffering of others." I'm scared of apathy and complacency, of detaching myself from the suffering. It's hard to see until our 20/20 hindsight hits us--but every time we lock someone out, we lock ourselves further in. Just as we are building walls to keep people out of our comfortable, insulated existence, we are trapping ourselves in a hell of isolation, loneliness and fear. We have "gated communities" where rich folks live. We put up picket fences around our suburban homes. We place barbed wire and razer-wire around our buildings and churches. We put bars on our windows in the ghettos of fear. We build up walls to keep immigrants from entering our country. We guard our borders with those walls--Berlin, Jerusalem, Jericho. And the more walls and gates and fences we have, the closer we are to hell. We, like the rich man, find ourselves locked into our gated homes and far from the tears of Lazarus outside, far from the tears of God.
Let us pray that God would give us the strength to storm the gates of hell, and tear down the walls we have created between those whose suffering would disrupt our comfort. May we become familiar with the suffering of the poor outside our gates, know their names, and taste the salt in their tears. Then when "the ones God has rescued," the Lazaruses of our world--the baby refugees, the mentally-ill wanderers, and the homeless outcasts--are seated next to God, we can say, "We're with them." Jesus has given them the keys to enter the Kingdom. Maybe they will give us a little boost over the gate.
And in the New Jerusalem, the great City of God, "on no day will its gates ever be shut." The gates of the Kingdom will forever be open. (Revelation 21:25)
Determined to Make War
George W. Bush is determined to continue making war in Iraq. I agree with Bush on one point--we need a new strategy in Iraq. But last night, George Bush decided to escalate the war and increase the American occupation--which he still doesn't seem to realize is at the center of the problem. Bush stubbornly believes that military solutions are always the best answer, and consistently chooses war over politics. But without a political solution in Iraq, no escalation of the war will succeed. Whether in Iraq, or even in the larger war on terrorism, Bush believes, as he said again last night, that we are in a great "ideological struggle" between us and them, good and evil--and that only military solutions against "them" will suffice. Both wisdom and humility (two religious virtues) suggest that political and diplomatic resolutions to conflict are ultimately required. But last night, Bush again chose the primacy of military solutions.
--Jim Wallis
--Jim Wallis
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
A Critical Reassessment
What made the teaching of Jesus different and apparently so hard to accept then as now, was that it required a critical reassessment of the structures and values and attitudes of human society as his listeners and followers shared in it.
--Monika K. Hellwig
--Monika K. Hellwig
Friday, January 05, 2007
How Does Saddam's Execution Make You Feel?
by Brian McLaren
I see little or no value to weighing in on the subject of capital punishment. People have their opinions and relatively few seem interested in changing them. But I would like to express in personal terms how I felt after the news coverage of Saddam Hussein's hanging. I'd like to share it especially for those who support executions, not to change their opinion necessarily, but simply to make a request of them.
The best word to describe my feeling: dirty.
I felt the same way when the "Shock and Awe" campaign was launched on Baghdad. I thought of all the little children cowering in closets and under beds, feeling (I imagine) that the whole world was coming to an end. I imagined them tearfully asking their moms and dads why this was happening and who was doing this to them, and them answering, "The United States." I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and polluted to be party to frightening innocent people, much less killing them as collateral damage. I thought of how similar "shock and awe" are to "terror," and because I don't want to terrorize anybody, those bombs didn't speak for me. And yet, against my will they did, and I felt dirty.
I know that Saddam was in no way innocent. I know he deserved to be held accountable for his disregard for human rights, for human life. But even if I supported capital punishment, I think I would still have felt dirty. Perhaps I'm too morally thin-skinned, but taking the human life of a person in the name of human life brings no sense of justice or satisfaction to me. Rather, it brings the opposite.
Others see it differently, I know. Some might use Bible verses to justify "eye for eye, tooth for tooth, life for life" (although Jesus seemed to put a rather authoritative spin on those verses, preceding them with "You have heard it said," and following them up with "But I say to you..."). Whether executions are justified or not, I feel dirty and ashamed whenever I hear of an execution, and Saddam's was no different. I hope I don't ever stop feeling that way.
I have friends who have become sexual addicts. They tell me the first time they cheated on their spouses, they felt terrible. But somehow they survived, and the next time, they still felt bad, but a little less so. By the twentieth time or the fiftieth time, they felt the tiniest pang of guilt, nothing much, really. Cheating became easy. The same thing happens with liars and spouse abusers and other addicts.
We've all seen similar patterns in our own lives. We become desensitized to things we shouldn't, and as that happens, we are in such great danger of becoming worse people than we ever imagined being, ever wanted to be.
So, if you felt as I did after the execution of Saddam Hussein, dirty, I wouldn't dismiss the feeling. I would say that it might be a redemptive dirtiness, and without it, I am afraid of what we could become.
I see little or no value to weighing in on the subject of capital punishment. People have their opinions and relatively few seem interested in changing them. But I would like to express in personal terms how I felt after the news coverage of Saddam Hussein's hanging. I'd like to share it especially for those who support executions, not to change their opinion necessarily, but simply to make a request of them.
The best word to describe my feeling: dirty.
I felt the same way when the "Shock and Awe" campaign was launched on Baghdad. I thought of all the little children cowering in closets and under beds, feeling (I imagine) that the whole world was coming to an end. I imagined them tearfully asking their moms and dads why this was happening and who was doing this to them, and them answering, "The United States." I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and polluted to be party to frightening innocent people, much less killing them as collateral damage. I thought of how similar "shock and awe" are to "terror," and because I don't want to terrorize anybody, those bombs didn't speak for me. And yet, against my will they did, and I felt dirty.
I know that Saddam was in no way innocent. I know he deserved to be held accountable for his disregard for human rights, for human life. But even if I supported capital punishment, I think I would still have felt dirty. Perhaps I'm too morally thin-skinned, but taking the human life of a person in the name of human life brings no sense of justice or satisfaction to me. Rather, it brings the opposite.
Others see it differently, I know. Some might use Bible verses to justify "eye for eye, tooth for tooth, life for life" (although Jesus seemed to put a rather authoritative spin on those verses, preceding them with "You have heard it said," and following them up with "But I say to you..."). Whether executions are justified or not, I feel dirty and ashamed whenever I hear of an execution, and Saddam's was no different. I hope I don't ever stop feeling that way.
I have friends who have become sexual addicts. They tell me the first time they cheated on their spouses, they felt terrible. But somehow they survived, and the next time, they still felt bad, but a little less so. By the twentieth time or the fiftieth time, they felt the tiniest pang of guilt, nothing much, really. Cheating became easy. The same thing happens with liars and spouse abusers and other addicts.
We've all seen similar patterns in our own lives. We become desensitized to things we shouldn't, and as that happens, we are in such great danger of becoming worse people than we ever imagined being, ever wanted to be.
So, if you felt as I did after the execution of Saddam Hussein, dirty, I wouldn't dismiss the feeling. I would say that it might be a redemptive dirtiness, and without it, I am afraid of what we could become.
Communicating Through a Noose
by Shane Claiborne
"What do you think of that man?" the old guy asked in a raspy voice as I settled in next to him on the plane. He pointed to the face of Saddam Hussein on the front of his newspaper with a headline story of the looming execution. I gathered myself, and prepared for what could turn out to be a rather chatty plane ride. I replied gently, "I think that man needs some love." And the rather boisterous gentleman sat still, perhaps not exactly the response he predicted. Then he said pensively, "Hmmmm. I think you're right..." And finally, he whispered in a forlorn tone, "And it is hard to communicate love through a noose."
Sometimes we just need permission to say, "It's not okay to kill someone to show everyone how much we hate killing." As Christian artist Derek Webb sings, " Peace by way of war is like purity by way of fornication. It's like saying murder is wrong and showing them by way of execution." I am encouraged by how many Christians I hear voicing an alternative to the myth of redemptive violence in light of the recent killing of Saddam, folks who love Jesus and have the unsettling feeling that Jesus loves evildoers so much he died for them, for us. I have heard many evangelicals who see Saddam's execution as the ultimate act of hopelessness and faithlessness – after all it is humanity stepping in to make the final judgment, that this human created in God's image is beyond redemption. And for those who believe in hell, executing someone who may not yet know of the love and grace of Christ is doubly offensive.
It is rather scandalous to think that we have a God who loves murderers and terrorists like Saul of Tarsus, Osama bin Laden, or Sadaam Hussein – but that is the "good news" isn't it? It's the old eye for an eye thing that gets us. But the more I've studied the Hebrew Scriptures the more I am convinced that this was just a boundary for people who lashed back. As the young exodus people are trying to discover a new way of living outside the empire, God made sure there were some boundaries, like if someone breaks your arm, you cannot go back and break their arm and their leg. If someone kills hundreds of your people, you cannot kill 160,000 of theirs.
We've learned the eye for an eye thing all too well. A shock and awe bombing leads to a shock and awe beheading. A Pearl Harbor leads to a Hiroshima. A murder leads to an execution. A rude look leads to a cold shoulder. An eye for an eye we have indeed heard before and learned its logic all too well. But Jesus comes declaring in his State of the Union Sermon on the Mount address (Matthew 5): "You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,'" but there is a another way. No wonder Jesus wept over Jerusalem because the people "did not know the things that make for peace."
Gandhi and King used to say, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth leaves the whole world blind" (and with dentures). The gospels tell the story of a group of people who have dragged forward an adulteress and are ready to stone her (this was the legal consequence). Jesus is asked for his support of this death penalty case. His response is this... "You are all adulterers. If you have looked at someone lustfully, you have committed adultery in your heart." And the people drop their stones and walk away with their heads bowed. We want to kill the murderers, and Jesus says to us: "You are all murderers. If you have called your neighbor 'Raca, Fool' you are guilty of murder in your heart." Again the stones drop. We are all murderers and adulterers and terrorists. And we are all precious.
When we have new eyes we can look into the faces of those we don't even like, and see the One we love. We can see God's image in everyone we encounter. As Henri Nouwen puts it: "In the face of the oppressed I recognize my own face and in the hands of the oppressor I recognize my own hands. Their flesh is my flesh, their blood is my blood, their pain is my pain, their smile is my smile." We are made of the same dust. We cry the same tears. No one is beyond redemption and no one is beyond repute. And that is when we are free to imagine a revolution that sets both the oppressed and the oppressors free. The world is starving for grace. And grace is hard to communicate with a noose.
"What do you think of that man?" the old guy asked in a raspy voice as I settled in next to him on the plane. He pointed to the face of Saddam Hussein on the front of his newspaper with a headline story of the looming execution. I gathered myself, and prepared for what could turn out to be a rather chatty plane ride. I replied gently, "I think that man needs some love." And the rather boisterous gentleman sat still, perhaps not exactly the response he predicted. Then he said pensively, "Hmmmm. I think you're right..." And finally, he whispered in a forlorn tone, "And it is hard to communicate love through a noose."
Sometimes we just need permission to say, "It's not okay to kill someone to show everyone how much we hate killing." As Christian artist Derek Webb sings, " Peace by way of war is like purity by way of fornication. It's like saying murder is wrong and showing them by way of execution." I am encouraged by how many Christians I hear voicing an alternative to the myth of redemptive violence in light of the recent killing of Saddam, folks who love Jesus and have the unsettling feeling that Jesus loves evildoers so much he died for them, for us. I have heard many evangelicals who see Saddam's execution as the ultimate act of hopelessness and faithlessness – after all it is humanity stepping in to make the final judgment, that this human created in God's image is beyond redemption. And for those who believe in hell, executing someone who may not yet know of the love and grace of Christ is doubly offensive.
It is rather scandalous to think that we have a God who loves murderers and terrorists like Saul of Tarsus, Osama bin Laden, or Sadaam Hussein – but that is the "good news" isn't it? It's the old eye for an eye thing that gets us. But the more I've studied the Hebrew Scriptures the more I am convinced that this was just a boundary for people who lashed back. As the young exodus people are trying to discover a new way of living outside the empire, God made sure there were some boundaries, like if someone breaks your arm, you cannot go back and break their arm and their leg. If someone kills hundreds of your people, you cannot kill 160,000 of theirs.
We've learned the eye for an eye thing all too well. A shock and awe bombing leads to a shock and awe beheading. A Pearl Harbor leads to a Hiroshima. A murder leads to an execution. A rude look leads to a cold shoulder. An eye for an eye we have indeed heard before and learned its logic all too well. But Jesus comes declaring in his State of the Union Sermon on the Mount address (Matthew 5): "You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,'" but there is a another way. No wonder Jesus wept over Jerusalem because the people "did not know the things that make for peace."
Gandhi and King used to say, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth leaves the whole world blind" (and with dentures). The gospels tell the story of a group of people who have dragged forward an adulteress and are ready to stone her (this was the legal consequence). Jesus is asked for his support of this death penalty case. His response is this... "You are all adulterers. If you have looked at someone lustfully, you have committed adultery in your heart." And the people drop their stones and walk away with their heads bowed. We want to kill the murderers, and Jesus says to us: "You are all murderers. If you have called your neighbor 'Raca, Fool' you are guilty of murder in your heart." Again the stones drop. We are all murderers and adulterers and terrorists. And we are all precious.
When we have new eyes we can look into the faces of those we don't even like, and see the One we love. We can see God's image in everyone we encounter. As Henri Nouwen puts it: "In the face of the oppressed I recognize my own face and in the hands of the oppressor I recognize my own hands. Their flesh is my flesh, their blood is my blood, their pain is my pain, their smile is my smile." We are made of the same dust. We cry the same tears. No one is beyond redemption and no one is beyond repute. And that is when we are free to imagine a revolution that sets both the oppressed and the oppressors free. The world is starving for grace. And grace is hard to communicate with a noose.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Paradox of Modernity
Why is it that a world dedicated to the pursuit of leisure and of machines that save labor is chiefly marked by its levels of rush, frenetic busyness and stress? The paradox of modernity is that however successful the understanding of time and space, the modern is less at home in the actual time and space of daily living than peoples less touched by [modern] changes. Whatever the integration of space and time in science, in modern life there is at once cultural stagnation and febrile change, a restless movement from place to place, experience to experience, revealing little evidence of a serene dwelling in the body and on the good earth."
--Colin Gunton
--Colin Gunton
Monday, January 01, 2007
Watering Seeds of Future Promise
It helps, now and then, to step back and take the long view. The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work. Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us. No statement says all that can be said. No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession brings perfection, No pastoral visit brings wholeness. No program accomplishes the church's mission. No set of goals and objectives includes everything. This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. That enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results. But that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are the workers, not the master builders; ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.
--Archbishop Oscar Romero
--Archbishop Oscar Romero
What the Christmas Story Teaches Us About Security
by Esther Epp Tiessen
The daily newspaper is a lot heavier and bulkier at this time of year — packed with wads of slippery Christmas advertisements and flyers. When I grab the newspaper out of the mailbox each morning, I usually toss the flyers directly into the recycle bin without even looking at them.
But last week my eye caught a flyer advertising a "gift of security" — a fancy home alarm system. "Give your family peace of mind this Christmas," the shiny piece of paper urged. "Install an alarm system that will make them secure."
I suspect that a lot of families will invest in security systems this Christmas. After all, we live in a society that is increasingly obsessed with the need for security. More and more homes have alarm systems. More and more people carry cell phones. Increasing numbers of video cameras watch us as we move about in public places. Airport procedures, border crossings and passport applications have all become much more rigorous.
The "war on terror" also reflects this obsession with security. We are told that the greatest of threats facing the western world is the threat of terrorism. And the way to make the world safe and secure from terrorists is to kill them. Our military forces, so it goes, are fighting to destroy terrorism so that all of us will live with more safety and security.
Distressingly, we as North Americans are learning that the war on terror is actually increasing the insecurity for others, as well as for ourselves. We have forgotten that our own security is intimately linked with the security of others. As Ernie Regehr of Project Ploughshares says, "Our well-being depends on others, as well as ourselves. We can't isolate ourselves within an armed fortress; instead we have to be active participants in transforming the world into a place where interdependence is not regarded as a threat but as the fundamental ingredient of community."
But back to the alarm system. There is something profoundly ironic about the marketing of security systems — and the pursuit of security at all costs — at Christmas time. Christmas is the story of a vulnerable baby entering a violent and dangerous world with no assurance of security. Yet a security company dares to promote an alarm system as the perfect Christmas gift!
The Christmas story teaches us something very different about security. The Jesus whose birthday we celebrate came into the world in total vulnerability. His birthplace was a stable and his bed a manger. His people lived under an authoritarian occupation. While still an infant, his family had to flee to a foreign land, because the King wanted him killed.
When Jesus grew, he chose vulnerability as a lifestyle. He carried no sword, possessed no worldly goods that required protection, and surrounded himself, not with bodyguards, but a ragtag bunch of marginal folks. He taught his friends that they should not harm their enemies but love them and do good to them. He told them that they would find security by serving others. He embodied vulnerability when faced with arrest, torture and even death.
For Christians, the message of Christmas is that our security is found not in alarm systems or military might or a war on terror, but in casting our fears upon the One who says that security is found in relationship, in sharing, and in reaching out to others — indeed, in vulnerability. Perhaps this message can be our Christmas gift to the world.
The daily newspaper is a lot heavier and bulkier at this time of year — packed with wads of slippery Christmas advertisements and flyers. When I grab the newspaper out of the mailbox each morning, I usually toss the flyers directly into the recycle bin without even looking at them.
But last week my eye caught a flyer advertising a "gift of security" — a fancy home alarm system. "Give your family peace of mind this Christmas," the shiny piece of paper urged. "Install an alarm system that will make them secure."
I suspect that a lot of families will invest in security systems this Christmas. After all, we live in a society that is increasingly obsessed with the need for security. More and more homes have alarm systems. More and more people carry cell phones. Increasing numbers of video cameras watch us as we move about in public places. Airport procedures, border crossings and passport applications have all become much more rigorous.
The "war on terror" also reflects this obsession with security. We are told that the greatest of threats facing the western world is the threat of terrorism. And the way to make the world safe and secure from terrorists is to kill them. Our military forces, so it goes, are fighting to destroy terrorism so that all of us will live with more safety and security.
Distressingly, we as North Americans are learning that the war on terror is actually increasing the insecurity for others, as well as for ourselves. We have forgotten that our own security is intimately linked with the security of others. As Ernie Regehr of Project Ploughshares says, "Our well-being depends on others, as well as ourselves. We can't isolate ourselves within an armed fortress; instead we have to be active participants in transforming the world into a place where interdependence is not regarded as a threat but as the fundamental ingredient of community."
But back to the alarm system. There is something profoundly ironic about the marketing of security systems — and the pursuit of security at all costs — at Christmas time. Christmas is the story of a vulnerable baby entering a violent and dangerous world with no assurance of security. Yet a security company dares to promote an alarm system as the perfect Christmas gift!
The Christmas story teaches us something very different about security. The Jesus whose birthday we celebrate came into the world in total vulnerability. His birthplace was a stable and his bed a manger. His people lived under an authoritarian occupation. While still an infant, his family had to flee to a foreign land, because the King wanted him killed.
When Jesus grew, he chose vulnerability as a lifestyle. He carried no sword, possessed no worldly goods that required protection, and surrounded himself, not with bodyguards, but a ragtag bunch of marginal folks. He taught his friends that they should not harm their enemies but love them and do good to them. He told them that they would find security by serving others. He embodied vulnerability when faced with arrest, torture and even death.
For Christians, the message of Christmas is that our security is found not in alarm systems or military might or a war on terror, but in casting our fears upon the One who says that security is found in relationship, in sharing, and in reaching out to others — indeed, in vulnerability. Perhaps this message can be our Christmas gift to the world.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Birth of a Subversive Savior
by E.J. Dionne
"African-Americans read their own collective experience into the agony and exaltation of Jesus. The story of the Christ child, blessed by God yet born in the shadow of poverty and violence, was their story. Jesus' humble birth in antiquity signified the humble origins of African peoples in modernity. In his impoverished entry into the world, Jesus turned the tables on earthly valuations. Fulfilling the promise of the oracle that celebrates his advent in a stable, the hills of the privileged and the valleys of the humble are inverted, marking the beginning of a new era."
-- Allen Dwight Callahan in "The Talking Book: African-Americans and the Bible."
Great traditions are subversive. They constantly call the imperfections of the present to account in the name of a more exalted standard.
Abraham Lincoln marshaled the power of the Declaration of Independence to challenge slavery, and every year, the Christmas story overturns our daily understandings of power and privilege. A newborn king and savior appears among us, born to a most unlikely family, in a most unlikely venue, in the least promising of circumstances.
Callahan's remarkable book, published this year by Yale University Press, describes the rich and intense relationship between the Bible and the African American imagination. But even more powerfully, it suggests--without making the case directly--that the reading of the Christian tradition offered by African Americans is as close as any to the authentic meaning of Christianity.
A Harvard-trained New Testament scholar and ordained Baptist minister, Callahan traces the role of "the talking book" (the phrase belongs to Henry Louis Gates Jr., lead editor of "The Norton Anthology of African-American Literature") from slavery to civil rights and from Gospel music to hip-hop. Callahan makes his case in the book's first sentences: "African-Americans are the children of slavery in America. And the Bible, as no other book, is the book of slavery's children."
It is hard, I think, for anyone nurtured in the Christian or Jewish traditions to dispute Callahan's claim that the Bible "privileges those without privilege and honors those without honor" and that it has a "penchant for bringing peripheral people to the center of history."
"The God of holy scripture has made slaves no less than their masters in the divine image and likeness," Callahan writes. "The Apostle Paul had declared that master and slave were equal in God's sight. And in the book of Exodus, God had freed the ancient Hebrews from bondage in Egypt; the liberation of slaves had been God's will. These were ideas at least as revolutionary as any Jeffersonian proposition."
All this might sound odd to members of two groups. Some on the left see religion as an "opiate of the masses" that offers the oppressed "pie in the sky when you die," in the words of the old song, by way of diverting them from rebellion against this world's injustices. Many on the right see Christianity demanding allegiance to conservatism, and there are a few who can't seem to distinguish between the scriptures and any given year's Republican Party platform.Callahan is alive to the fact that the scriptures and the meaning of Christ's story have always been contested. Elijah Muhammad of the Black Muslims called the Bible "a Poison Book." Slave owners emphasized passages calling upon slaves to submit to their masters. "According to the testimony of slaves themselves," Callahan writes, "obedience was the first commandment...preached to them."
Yet the Bible's subversive message could not be successfully blocked. Ex-slave Frederick Douglass spoke of two religions called Christianity, "the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land" and "the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ." Many years later, W.E.B. DuBois, a founder of the NAACP, called Jesus "the greatest of religious rebels."
And no story has played as large a role in African American faith as Exodus. Introducing Martin Luther King Jr. in 1963 to a Jewish audience as a modern prophet, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel declared: "The exodus began but is far from having been completed. In fact, it was easier for the children of Israel to cross the Red Sea than for a Negro to cross certain university campuses."
Callahan cites the words of an old Negro spiritual:
Poor little Jesus boy
Made him to be born in a manger.
World treated him so mean
Treat me mean, too.
The poor, the outcasts, the slaves: If Jesus spoke to anyone, it was to them, and they have responded to him through the centuries. The African American religious tradition is a blessing to all because it requires us to remember that Jesus of Nazareth really did revolutionize the world.
"African-Americans read their own collective experience into the agony and exaltation of Jesus. The story of the Christ child, blessed by God yet born in the shadow of poverty and violence, was their story. Jesus' humble birth in antiquity signified the humble origins of African peoples in modernity. In his impoverished entry into the world, Jesus turned the tables on earthly valuations. Fulfilling the promise of the oracle that celebrates his advent in a stable, the hills of the privileged and the valleys of the humble are inverted, marking the beginning of a new era."
-- Allen Dwight Callahan in "The Talking Book: African-Americans and the Bible."
Great traditions are subversive. They constantly call the imperfections of the present to account in the name of a more exalted standard.
Abraham Lincoln marshaled the power of the Declaration of Independence to challenge slavery, and every year, the Christmas story overturns our daily understandings of power and privilege. A newborn king and savior appears among us, born to a most unlikely family, in a most unlikely venue, in the least promising of circumstances.
Callahan's remarkable book, published this year by Yale University Press, describes the rich and intense relationship between the Bible and the African American imagination. But even more powerfully, it suggests--without making the case directly--that the reading of the Christian tradition offered by African Americans is as close as any to the authentic meaning of Christianity.
A Harvard-trained New Testament scholar and ordained Baptist minister, Callahan traces the role of "the talking book" (the phrase belongs to Henry Louis Gates Jr., lead editor of "The Norton Anthology of African-American Literature") from slavery to civil rights and from Gospel music to hip-hop. Callahan makes his case in the book's first sentences: "African-Americans are the children of slavery in America. And the Bible, as no other book, is the book of slavery's children."
It is hard, I think, for anyone nurtured in the Christian or Jewish traditions to dispute Callahan's claim that the Bible "privileges those without privilege and honors those without honor" and that it has a "penchant for bringing peripheral people to the center of history."
"The God of holy scripture has made slaves no less than their masters in the divine image and likeness," Callahan writes. "The Apostle Paul had declared that master and slave were equal in God's sight. And in the book of Exodus, God had freed the ancient Hebrews from bondage in Egypt; the liberation of slaves had been God's will. These were ideas at least as revolutionary as any Jeffersonian proposition."
All this might sound odd to members of two groups. Some on the left see religion as an "opiate of the masses" that offers the oppressed "pie in the sky when you die," in the words of the old song, by way of diverting them from rebellion against this world's injustices. Many on the right see Christianity demanding allegiance to conservatism, and there are a few who can't seem to distinguish between the scriptures and any given year's Republican Party platform.Callahan is alive to the fact that the scriptures and the meaning of Christ's story have always been contested. Elijah Muhammad of the Black Muslims called the Bible "a Poison Book." Slave owners emphasized passages calling upon slaves to submit to their masters. "According to the testimony of slaves themselves," Callahan writes, "obedience was the first commandment...preached to them."
Yet the Bible's subversive message could not be successfully blocked. Ex-slave Frederick Douglass spoke of two religions called Christianity, "the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land" and "the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ." Many years later, W.E.B. DuBois, a founder of the NAACP, called Jesus "the greatest of religious rebels."
And no story has played as large a role in African American faith as Exodus. Introducing Martin Luther King Jr. in 1963 to a Jewish audience as a modern prophet, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel declared: "The exodus began but is far from having been completed. In fact, it was easier for the children of Israel to cross the Red Sea than for a Negro to cross certain university campuses."
Callahan cites the words of an old Negro spiritual:
Poor little Jesus boy
Made him to be born in a manger.
World treated him so mean
Treat me mean, too.
The poor, the outcasts, the slaves: If Jesus spoke to anyone, it was to them, and they have responded to him through the centuries. The African American religious tradition is a blessing to all because it requires us to remember that Jesus of Nazareth really did revolutionize the world.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Truth and Power
By Reza Aslan
In 2000, when Pope Benedict XVI was still Cardinal Ratzinger, he penned a peculiar tract entitled "Dominus Iesus," in which he laid out the ground rules for interreligious dialogue. The future pope wrote that it is perfectly fine for Catholics to engage other faiths in religious discourse. But, he cautioned, one must never "close one's eyes to the errors and illusions" of other religions. Nor should one lose sight of how "gravely deficient" those religions are when compared with Catholicism.
Such a position is perhaps to be expected from a pope who believes that quoting a 14th-century Crusader's absurdly archaic views on Islam is an invitation to dialogue. Having repeatedly criticized his predecessor's tireless efforts to reach out to Muslims as bordering on religious relativism, Benedict has focused his papacy on the issue of "reciprocity" in interreligious dialogue. By this, the pope means the perfectly reasonable expectation that Christians in Muslim lands should have the same freedoms as Muslims in Christian lands to propagate their faith.
Of course, there is no question that much of the Arab and Muslim world has a poor track record when it comes to tolerance of non-Muslims, let alone promotion of interreligious dialogue. But there was a time, a mere 400 years ago, when Rome considered interreligious dialogue to be most effectively facilitated by a Grand Inquisitor, while Muslim Spain, Baghdad, and Cairo opened their gates to Christian and Jewish scientists, philosophers, and theologians, many of whom enjoyed the patronage of the royal courts.
To be sure, this tolerance of Jews and Christians had less to do with the precepts of Islam than with the fact that the Muslim world was basking in a golden era of scientific achievement and religious experimentation. In other words, the Muslims of the era had an unshakable confidence in their cultural, economic, political, and even religious dominance over the region. If this historic commitment to interreligious dialogue has now given way to religious repression and brutal intolerance, it is not because Islam's view of "the other" has changed. It is because the power dynamics of the region have changed.
Today, in large parts of the Arab and Muslim world, many Muslims consider themselves to be under siege by what they perceive to be the unrelenting hegemony of the "Christian West." For many, "interreligious dialogue" often looks suspiciously like religious coercion, and Christian proselytizing is sometimes difficult to distinguish from the still fresh, still bruising, memory of colonialism.
None of this is to excuse religious oppression in the Arab and Muslim world. The pope is right to demand greater freedoms of faith and expression in particularly conservative countries like Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan, where Islam's historic commitment to religious pluralism has long been forgotten.
But while an argument can be made that interreligious dialogue should have a purpose, it should not be to shed light on the "errors and illusions" of your neighbor's faith. One should never forget that what we call interreligious dialogue is rarely divorced from the dynamics of power between religions. For those, like the pope--and many other conservative Christian, as well as Muslim and Jewish, believers--who believe that such dialogue must begin with the prima facie recognition that one's own religion represents Truth, this is an important lesson indeed.
In 2000, when Pope Benedict XVI was still Cardinal Ratzinger, he penned a peculiar tract entitled "Dominus Iesus," in which he laid out the ground rules for interreligious dialogue. The future pope wrote that it is perfectly fine for Catholics to engage other faiths in religious discourse. But, he cautioned, one must never "close one's eyes to the errors and illusions" of other religions. Nor should one lose sight of how "gravely deficient" those religions are when compared with Catholicism.
Such a position is perhaps to be expected from a pope who believes that quoting a 14th-century Crusader's absurdly archaic views on Islam is an invitation to dialogue. Having repeatedly criticized his predecessor's tireless efforts to reach out to Muslims as bordering on religious relativism, Benedict has focused his papacy on the issue of "reciprocity" in interreligious dialogue. By this, the pope means the perfectly reasonable expectation that Christians in Muslim lands should have the same freedoms as Muslims in Christian lands to propagate their faith.
Of course, there is no question that much of the Arab and Muslim world has a poor track record when it comes to tolerance of non-Muslims, let alone promotion of interreligious dialogue. But there was a time, a mere 400 years ago, when Rome considered interreligious dialogue to be most effectively facilitated by a Grand Inquisitor, while Muslim Spain, Baghdad, and Cairo opened their gates to Christian and Jewish scientists, philosophers, and theologians, many of whom enjoyed the patronage of the royal courts.
To be sure, this tolerance of Jews and Christians had less to do with the precepts of Islam than with the fact that the Muslim world was basking in a golden era of scientific achievement and religious experimentation. In other words, the Muslims of the era had an unshakable confidence in their cultural, economic, political, and even religious dominance over the region. If this historic commitment to interreligious dialogue has now given way to religious repression and brutal intolerance, it is not because Islam's view of "the other" has changed. It is because the power dynamics of the region have changed.
Today, in large parts of the Arab and Muslim world, many Muslims consider themselves to be under siege by what they perceive to be the unrelenting hegemony of the "Christian West." For many, "interreligious dialogue" often looks suspiciously like religious coercion, and Christian proselytizing is sometimes difficult to distinguish from the still fresh, still bruising, memory of colonialism.
None of this is to excuse religious oppression in the Arab and Muslim world. The pope is right to demand greater freedoms of faith and expression in particularly conservative countries like Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan, where Islam's historic commitment to religious pluralism has long been forgotten.
But while an argument can be made that interreligious dialogue should have a purpose, it should not be to shed light on the "errors and illusions" of your neighbor's faith. One should never forget that what we call interreligious dialogue is rarely divorced from the dynamics of power between religions. For those, like the pope--and many other conservative Christian, as well as Muslim and Jewish, believers--who believe that such dialogue must begin with the prima facie recognition that one's own religion represents Truth, this is an important lesson indeed.
Faith and Reason
By Richard John Neuhaus
Contrary to older theories predicting the unstoppable course of secularization, the world is becoming more religious and more religiously assertive. Western Europe may be the exception, even though that is much in dispute. Beyond dispute is the new prominence of religion and religiously-grounded morality in American public life. This is a surprise, and mainly an unpleasant surprise, to secularists who are committed to what I have called "the naked public square," meaning public life stripped of religious practice and conviction.
On the world stage, we are confronted by a newly assertive Islam and by radical political movements, aptly described as jihadist, advanced in the name of Islam. Samuel Huntington of Harvard has written of an ominous "clash of civilizations" between Islam and the West (which most Muslims continue to view as Christendom). The alternative to a bloody and open-ended clash of civilizations, beyond the containment of jihadism by force, is interreligious understanding and the cultivation of the virtue of tolerance.
Since religion is not going to go away, religious tolerance must itself be grounded in religion. The great question is whether there are within Islam religious resources for legitimating peaceful coexistence with "the infidel." Or is it the case that Islam cannot move beyond the doctrine of a world divided between the "house of Islam" and the "house of war"? Needless to say, Christianity has had its own confusion about the uses of violence, as witness the attempt of the Crusades to retake territory that had fallen to Muslim conquest.
On the question of religion and violence, the most important speech that has been made by a world figure since 9/11 was delivered by Pope Benedict XVI at the University of Regensburg on Sept. 12 of this year. The use of violence in advancing religion is a violation of reason, the pope said, and to act against reason is to act against the nature of God. This understanding of the necessary connection between faith and reason, he said, is the product of centuries of philosophical and theological reflection resulting in a synthesis of Hellenic and biblical understandings of reality. His suggestion that Islam has not undergone a similar philosophical and theological development and is therefore prone to employ violence in the name of religion met with violent protest by thousands of Muslims.
That violent reaction, we must hope, is not the last word. In his later visit to Turkey, the pope--without backing off from the argument made at Regensburg--reached out to his Muslim interlocutors in a plea for interreligious and intercultural understanding. Religion and culture, he insists, are inseparable. The alternative to jihadism and a clash of civilizations is not the secularization of Islam and the creation of a naked public square in the Islamic world. The alternative, rather, is a religious commitment to a civil public square in which differences are engaged on the basis of reason and mutual respect.
Whether this can be achieved between Islam and the West is, one might well argue, the most important question of this century.
Contrary to older theories predicting the unstoppable course of secularization, the world is becoming more religious and more religiously assertive. Western Europe may be the exception, even though that is much in dispute. Beyond dispute is the new prominence of religion and religiously-grounded morality in American public life. This is a surprise, and mainly an unpleasant surprise, to secularists who are committed to what I have called "the naked public square," meaning public life stripped of religious practice and conviction.
On the world stage, we are confronted by a newly assertive Islam and by radical political movements, aptly described as jihadist, advanced in the name of Islam. Samuel Huntington of Harvard has written of an ominous "clash of civilizations" between Islam and the West (which most Muslims continue to view as Christendom). The alternative to a bloody and open-ended clash of civilizations, beyond the containment of jihadism by force, is interreligious understanding and the cultivation of the virtue of tolerance.
Since religion is not going to go away, religious tolerance must itself be grounded in religion. The great question is whether there are within Islam religious resources for legitimating peaceful coexistence with "the infidel." Or is it the case that Islam cannot move beyond the doctrine of a world divided between the "house of Islam" and the "house of war"? Needless to say, Christianity has had its own confusion about the uses of violence, as witness the attempt of the Crusades to retake territory that had fallen to Muslim conquest.
On the question of religion and violence, the most important speech that has been made by a world figure since 9/11 was delivered by Pope Benedict XVI at the University of Regensburg on Sept. 12 of this year. The use of violence in advancing religion is a violation of reason, the pope said, and to act against reason is to act against the nature of God. This understanding of the necessary connection between faith and reason, he said, is the product of centuries of philosophical and theological reflection resulting in a synthesis of Hellenic and biblical understandings of reality. His suggestion that Islam has not undergone a similar philosophical and theological development and is therefore prone to employ violence in the name of religion met with violent protest by thousands of Muslims.
That violent reaction, we must hope, is not the last word. In his later visit to Turkey, the pope--without backing off from the argument made at Regensburg--reached out to his Muslim interlocutors in a plea for interreligious and intercultural understanding. Religion and culture, he insists, are inseparable. The alternative to jihadism and a clash of civilizations is not the secularization of Islam and the creation of a naked public square in the Islamic world. The alternative, rather, is a religious commitment to a civil public square in which differences are engaged on the basis of reason and mutual respect.
Whether this can be achieved between Islam and the West is, one might well argue, the most important question of this century.
A Christian Imperative
by Mark A. Noll
The barriers to serious and effective interfaith dialogue have become mountainous. Antagonism between and among Christians, Muslims, Hindus, secularists, and animists is a prominent feature of the contemporary world. Especially when that antagonism overlaps ethnic tension, the potential for violence is all too familiar.
In the recent past, a number of distinctly modern circumstances have exacerbated age-old possibilities for sectarian strife. Nation-building, as in Iraq, Northern Ireland, Sri Lanka, and Lebanon, is sabotaged by conflict stoked by religious difference. Instant electronic communications favor impressionistic extremism over analytical moderation, as witnessed by the furor over Pope Benedict's recent comments about Islam. Great wealth tied to great corruption, as in Nigeria, undermines a society already divided by escalating religious competition. The potential for nuclear war is heightened when, as in the Middle East, religious passions fuel diplomatic standoffs.
Yet speaking as both a historian and a Christian, there is every reason to insist on the necessity of conscientious interfaith exchange. The history of Christianity itself offers a wealth of examples for how things go wrong without it. So long as Catholics and Orthodox existed in self-enclosed isolation, so long as Catholics and Protestants could not imagine the possibility of insight from the other, so long as establishmentarians and dissenters sniped away from a distance -- under these conditions, simmering conflict could easily burst into flame. But when hereditary antagonists met, spoke, and finally prayed with each other, fear and loathing dissipated, to at least some degree, and trust, however fragile, began to grow.
Such meetings have happened increasingly over the last half century. When Pope Paul VI met Athenagoras I, head of the Orthodox Church, in Jerusalem in 1964, the result was a rescinding of excommunications that had been in place for more than 900 years. On a different scale, the Second Vatican Council set in motion a number of consequential dialogues between Catholics and Protestants. Some have been formal engagements between learned theologians; more have been informal gatherings in neighborhoods to study the Bible or provide shelter for the homeless. But whether in high places or low, these interchanges have transformed the once acid relationship between Catholics and Protestants.
Especially at this time of year, Christian believers have every reason to view the challenge of dialogue as essential. Christian faith urges a strong note of realism first of all on believers themselves: Just as the message of salvation features God's mercy, rather than the superiority of the redeemed, so too does the universal scope of the Gospel imply respect for all people, whether inside or out of the household of faith.
At Christmas, Christians are reminded that Jesus Christ, the eternal Word of God, took on human flesh--not just the flesh of the Christian subset of humanity, but the flesh of humanity as a whole. At their best, Christians realize that the narrative begun in Bethlehem encompasses the story of the whole world.
Despite very real difficulties, such Christmas realities make respectful dialogue with all humans--of whatever faith, and none--a Christian imperative.
The barriers to serious and effective interfaith dialogue have become mountainous. Antagonism between and among Christians, Muslims, Hindus, secularists, and animists is a prominent feature of the contemporary world. Especially when that antagonism overlaps ethnic tension, the potential for violence is all too familiar.
In the recent past, a number of distinctly modern circumstances have exacerbated age-old possibilities for sectarian strife. Nation-building, as in Iraq, Northern Ireland, Sri Lanka, and Lebanon, is sabotaged by conflict stoked by religious difference. Instant electronic communications favor impressionistic extremism over analytical moderation, as witnessed by the furor over Pope Benedict's recent comments about Islam. Great wealth tied to great corruption, as in Nigeria, undermines a society already divided by escalating religious competition. The potential for nuclear war is heightened when, as in the Middle East, religious passions fuel diplomatic standoffs.
Yet speaking as both a historian and a Christian, there is every reason to insist on the necessity of conscientious interfaith exchange. The history of Christianity itself offers a wealth of examples for how things go wrong without it. So long as Catholics and Orthodox existed in self-enclosed isolation, so long as Catholics and Protestants could not imagine the possibility of insight from the other, so long as establishmentarians and dissenters sniped away from a distance -- under these conditions, simmering conflict could easily burst into flame. But when hereditary antagonists met, spoke, and finally prayed with each other, fear and loathing dissipated, to at least some degree, and trust, however fragile, began to grow.
Such meetings have happened increasingly over the last half century. When Pope Paul VI met Athenagoras I, head of the Orthodox Church, in Jerusalem in 1964, the result was a rescinding of excommunications that had been in place for more than 900 years. On a different scale, the Second Vatican Council set in motion a number of consequential dialogues between Catholics and Protestants. Some have been formal engagements between learned theologians; more have been informal gatherings in neighborhoods to study the Bible or provide shelter for the homeless. But whether in high places or low, these interchanges have transformed the once acid relationship between Catholics and Protestants.
Especially at this time of year, Christian believers have every reason to view the challenge of dialogue as essential. Christian faith urges a strong note of realism first of all on believers themselves: Just as the message of salvation features God's mercy, rather than the superiority of the redeemed, so too does the universal scope of the Gospel imply respect for all people, whether inside or out of the household of faith.
At Christmas, Christians are reminded that Jesus Christ, the eternal Word of God, took on human flesh--not just the flesh of the Christian subset of humanity, but the flesh of humanity as a whole. At their best, Christians realize that the narrative begun in Bethlehem encompasses the story of the whole world.
Despite very real difficulties, such Christmas realities make respectful dialogue with all humans--of whatever faith, and none--a Christian imperative.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
The Clergy Letter Project
Within the community of Christian believers there are areas of dispute and disagreement, including the proper way to interpret Holy Scripture. While virtually all Christians take the Bible seriously and hold it to be authoritative in matters of faith and practice, the overwhelming majority do not read the Bible literally, as they would a science textbook. Many of the beloved stories found in the Bible--the Creation, Adam and Eve, Noah and the ark--convey timeless truths about God, human beings, and the proper relationship between Creator and creation expressed in the only form capable of transmitting these truths from generation to generation. Religious truth is of a different order from scientific truth. Its purpose is not to convey scientific information but to transform hearts.
We the undersigned, Christian clergy from many different traditions, believe that the timeless truths of the Bible and the discoveries of modern science may comfortably coexist. We believe that the theory of evolution is a foundational scientific truth, one that has stood up to rigorous scrutiny and upon which much of human knowledge and achievement rests. To reject this truth or to treat it as “one theory among others” is to deliberately embrace scientific ignorance and transmit such ignorance to our children. We believe that among God’s good gifts are human minds capable of critical thought and that the failure to fully employ this gift is a rejection of the will of our Creator. To argue that God’s loving plan of salvation for humanity precludes the full employment of the God-given faculty of reason is to attempt to limit God, an act of hubris. We urge school board members to preserve the integrity of the science curriculum by affirming the teaching of the theory of evolution as a core component of human knowledge. We ask that science remain science and that religion remain religion, two very different, but complementary, forms of truth.
--Signed by 10,418 Christian clergy as of December 2006
We the undersigned, Christian clergy from many different traditions, believe that the timeless truths of the Bible and the discoveries of modern science may comfortably coexist. We believe that the theory of evolution is a foundational scientific truth, one that has stood up to rigorous scrutiny and upon which much of human knowledge and achievement rests. To reject this truth or to treat it as “one theory among others” is to deliberately embrace scientific ignorance and transmit such ignorance to our children. We believe that among God’s good gifts are human minds capable of critical thought and that the failure to fully employ this gift is a rejection of the will of our Creator. To argue that God’s loving plan of salvation for humanity precludes the full employment of the God-given faculty of reason is to attempt to limit God, an act of hubris. We urge school board members to preserve the integrity of the science curriculum by affirming the teaching of the theory of evolution as a core component of human knowledge. We ask that science remain science and that religion remain religion, two very different, but complementary, forms of truth.
--Signed by 10,418 Christian clergy as of December 2006
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Bend History
Let no one be discouraged by the belief there is nothing one man or one woman can do against the enormous array of the world's ills, against misery and ignorance, injustice and violence. Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total of all those acts will be written the history of our generation.
--Robert F. Kennedy
--Robert F. Kennedy
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Some Real Tensions
As Christians in the Anabaptist tradition, my Mennonite church and I seek to apply the life and teachings of Jesus to real life. We are committed to the belief that Jesus’ words and actions are relevant to the real and complex issues of our day. So to be a follower of Jesus means that we will attempt to follow his teachings and example. So we don’t write off the Sermon on the Mount as impractical in today’s world. Jesus’ call to love our enemies and do good to those who persecute us means that our calling as Christians will place us in some real tensions with the systems and powers of the world.
--Brian Miller
--Brian Miller
The Less We Find
The more we try to ground our identities in external possessions or triumphs, the more we plaster our names on everything we can accumulate, the more we cling to surface and style, the less we find underneath.
--John F. Kavanaugh
--John F. Kavanaugh
This War Was Wrong
I have been saying, over and over again, that this war was wrong—from the very start. And I will continue to say that, because until we admit the war was just wrong, we will never find a way out. We are not winning, nor are we going to win in Iraq. We have already lost. We just made a very bad situation much worse, and have to just stop doing it some more. When a war is so wrong and so bad, there are not often any good solutions to be found. Let's just say it—there are no longer and good solutions to the war in Iraq. There is only responsible withdrawal. Of course, it is a civil war, with factions that are far less committed to a unified nation than to their own tribe (read Tom Friedman), and no number of American troops can solve a political disaster with mostly military means. I did say "responsible withdrawal" so don't give me any "cut and run" stuff—nobody is saying that. Unless the Iraqis change their behavior and unless far more international involvement is achieved, everything will just get worse and worse.
--Jim Wallis
--Jim Wallis
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Humbled by Mystery
[M]any religious folks insist on answers that are always true. We love closure, resolution and clarity, while thinking that we are people of "faith"! How strange that the very word "faith" has come to mean its exact opposite.
People who have really met the Holy are always humble. It's the people who don't know who usually pretend that they do. People who've had any genuine spiritual experience always know they don't know. They are utterly humbled before mystery. They are in awe before the abyss of it all, in wonder at eternity and depth, and a Love, which is incomprehensible to the mind. It is a litmus test for authentic God experience, and is--quite sadly--absent from much of our religious conversation today.
--Richard Rohr
People who have really met the Holy are always humble. It's the people who don't know who usually pretend that they do. People who've had any genuine spiritual experience always know they don't know. They are utterly humbled before mystery. They are in awe before the abyss of it all, in wonder at eternity and depth, and a Love, which is incomprehensible to the mind. It is a litmus test for authentic God experience, and is--quite sadly--absent from much of our religious conversation today.
--Richard Rohr
Jesus and Women
Throughout his life Jesus' response to women was one of compassion and inclusion, a rare posture in his day. He was not afraid to be seen in public with the most marginalized 'sinners' - prostitutes, adulteresses, and a woman who had been 'unclean' for many years with a flow of blood. He revealed himself as the Messiah to the Samaritan woman at the well, invited Mary of Bethany to sit with him and learn, welcomed Mary Magdalene into his circle of friends, and received an anointing of rich ointment before his death, rebuking his disciples for criticizing the woman who lavished such attention on him.
--Joyce Hollyday
--Joyce Hollyday
Monday, December 18, 2006
The Politics of Joy
by Brian McLaren
Earlier this week, I was speaking to a group of Methodist ministers and we sang the Christmas carol "Joy to the World." Two moments in the song took my breath away.
The first came when I sang "let every heart prepare him room." If the carol is right, the way earth receives God's "prince of peace" is through individual hearts like ours. By making space, by opening our hearts to Christ, by letting our lives be the stable and manger into which good news quietly comes, by rendering the vacuum and vacancy within us vulnerable to the incoming of the Spirit...we become, like Mary, "theotokos"--God-bearers.
That might sound kind of mystical, not political, and I guess it is. It is something that I believe we all can actually experience: the possibility of preparing room in our hearts so that Christ truly comes.
That brings me to the second transcendent moment in the carol for me this week: "No more let sin and sorrows grow, nor thorns infest the ground. He comes to make his blessings flow far as the curse is found."
The coming of a good king in the ancient world meant a lot, and although kingly language may sound archaic today, I think we can recapture its meaning when we think of a thorny land, polluted by sin and cursed by sorrow, becoming verdant and fertile and healthy again--blessedness flowing over the land like a warm breeze.
And of course, this is where the personal and political meet. Thinking about justice, talking about peace, debating public policy, and working for social change are important...but not as a substitute for the very personal choice to "prepare him room" in our hearts, so that (as the saying goes) we can be the change we want to see in the world.
The way "earth receives her king" (and the blessings he brings) is not by bombs and guns and wiretaps and coups; not by aggressive blog postings or passionate media pronouncements by pundits. Rather, the king (and the kingdom) come first to the quiet hearts of humble people who "prepare him room," and the joy flows to the world through them.
That's the language of spiritual formation, no doubt. But how can there be political transformation in the external world of thorns, sins, and sorrow if our inner lives don't become the manger into which hope, healing, empowerment, love, and joy are born?
What happens in the political realm--in the public world where people treat one another justly or unjustly, peacefully or violently, as neighbors or as enemies--can never be separated from what happens in the personal realm. And the reverse is true, too.
That's the source of the politics of joy.
Earlier this week, I was speaking to a group of Methodist ministers and we sang the Christmas carol "Joy to the World." Two moments in the song took my breath away.
The first came when I sang "let every heart prepare him room." If the carol is right, the way earth receives God's "prince of peace" is through individual hearts like ours. By making space, by opening our hearts to Christ, by letting our lives be the stable and manger into which good news quietly comes, by rendering the vacuum and vacancy within us vulnerable to the incoming of the Spirit...we become, like Mary, "theotokos"--God-bearers.
That might sound kind of mystical, not political, and I guess it is. It is something that I believe we all can actually experience: the possibility of preparing room in our hearts so that Christ truly comes.
That brings me to the second transcendent moment in the carol for me this week: "No more let sin and sorrows grow, nor thorns infest the ground. He comes to make his blessings flow far as the curse is found."
The coming of a good king in the ancient world meant a lot, and although kingly language may sound archaic today, I think we can recapture its meaning when we think of a thorny land, polluted by sin and cursed by sorrow, becoming verdant and fertile and healthy again--blessedness flowing over the land like a warm breeze.
And of course, this is where the personal and political meet. Thinking about justice, talking about peace, debating public policy, and working for social change are important...but not as a substitute for the very personal choice to "prepare him room" in our hearts, so that (as the saying goes) we can be the change we want to see in the world.
The way "earth receives her king" (and the blessings he brings) is not by bombs and guns and wiretaps and coups; not by aggressive blog postings or passionate media pronouncements by pundits. Rather, the king (and the kingdom) come first to the quiet hearts of humble people who "prepare him room," and the joy flows to the world through them.
That's the language of spiritual formation, no doubt. But how can there be political transformation in the external world of thorns, sins, and sorrow if our inner lives don't become the manger into which hope, healing, empowerment, love, and joy are born?
What happens in the political realm--in the public world where people treat one another justly or unjustly, peacefully or violently, as neighbors or as enemies--can never be separated from what happens in the personal realm. And the reverse is true, too.
That's the source of the politics of joy.
Serious About Peace?
If we are serious about peace, then we must work for it as ardently, seriously, continuously, carefully, and bravely as we have ever prepared for war.
--Wendell Berry
--Wendell Berry
Friday, December 15, 2006
Peace
True Christians do not know vengeance. They are the children of peace. Their hearts overflow with peace. Their mouths speak peace, and they walk in the way of peace.
--Menno Simons
--Menno Simons
Thursday, December 14, 2006
The Greatest Poverty
You can find Calcutta anywhere in the world. You only need two eyes to see. Everywhere in the world there are people that are not loved, people that are not wanted nor desired, people that no one will help, people that are pushed away or forgotten. And this is the greatest poverty.
--Mother Teresa
--Mother Teresa
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
What Should the Church Do?
What do we want the Church to do? We don't ask for more cathedrals. We don't ask for bigger churches of fine gifts. We ask for its presence with us, beside us, as Christ among us. We ask the Church to sacrifice with the people for social change, for justice, and for love of brother. We don't ask for words. We ask for deeds. We don't ask for paternalism. We ask for servanthood.
--Cesar Chavez
--Cesar Chavez
Monday, December 11, 2006
Friedman's Cruel Legacy
by William Greider
Now that the economists and their camp followers have mourned and celebrated the life of Milton Friedman, allow me to kick a little dirt on the icon. Without question, Friedman was the most influential economist of the second half of the twentieth century, as his admirers claim. What they do not say is that he was also the most destructive public intellectual of our time.
Friedman actually failed as a scientific economist but succeeded as a moral philosopher. His greatest scholarly accomplishment--his monetarist theory of how to regulate money and credit--was intellectually flawed at its core and collapsed when the Federal Reserve tried to follow it. The central bank wisely discarded Friedman's money-supply approach before it did more damage. It is now a forgotten relic at the Fed.
Friedman's broader argument--that a society should be governed by self-regulating markets instead of big government--did better but also did not lead to the utopia he promoted. His "free market" faith has produced instead the very thing Friedman regularly denounced: a bastardized system of interest-group politics that serves favored sectors of citizens at the expense of many others. Enterprise and markets were indeed set "free" of government regulation, but big government did not go away (it grew bigger). Only now government acts mainly as patron and protector for the largest, most powerful interests--the same ones that demanded their liberation. Instead of serving the broad general welfare, government enables capital and corporations to feed off the taxpayers' money and convert public assets into private profit centers, shielded from the wrath of any citizens trying to object. If that is what Friedman really had in mind, he should have said so.
His most profound damage, however, was as a moral philosopher. He championed an ethic of unrelenting, unapologetic self-interest that effectively pushed aside human sympathy. In fact, humans' responsibility to one another has been delegitimized--portrayed as an obstacle to the hardheaded analysis that maximizes returns. Friedman explained: "So the question is, do corporate executives, provided they stay within the law, have responsibilities in their business activities other than to make as much money for their stockholders as possible? And my answer to that is, no, they do not."
Pay no attention to the collateral consequences. Your only obligation is to the bottom line. Friedman's message was highly appealing--he promised people a path to freedom--but it triumphed, ultimately, because it served the powerful forces of capital over labor, economic wealth over social concerns. Government was indeed failing on many fronts, especially inflation, and liberalism had no answer. Friedman's answer was alluringly simple. Get rid of government.
People everywhere now understand what Friedman's kind of "freedom" means. America has been brutally coarsened by his success at popularizing this dictum--millions of innocents injured, mutual trust gravely weakened, society demoralized by the hardening terms of life. Most people know in their gut this is wrong but see no easy way to resist it. Friedman's utopia is also drenched in personal corruption. The proliferating scandals in business, finance and government flow directly from his teaching people to go for it and disregard moral qualms. When you tell people in power that their highest purpose in life is to maximize their own returns, there is no limit to how much "good" they will do for the rest of us. I don't recall hearing Friedman express any discomfort. Perhaps he regarded looting and stealing as natural features of capitalism that market forces would eventually correct.
This is what the memorials left out: the cruel quality of Friedman's obliviousness. Art Hilgart, a retired industrial economist, recalls hearing Friedman lecture in 1991 and recommend the destruction of Medicare, welfare, the postal system, Social Security and public education. The audience was dumbfounded.
Finally, a brave young woman asked what this would mean for poverty. "There is no poverty in America," Friedman instructed. A clear voice arose from the back of hall: "Bullshit!" The audience cheered wildly.
Now that the economists and their camp followers have mourned and celebrated the life of Milton Friedman, allow me to kick a little dirt on the icon. Without question, Friedman was the most influential economist of the second half of the twentieth century, as his admirers claim. What they do not say is that he was also the most destructive public intellectual of our time.
Friedman actually failed as a scientific economist but succeeded as a moral philosopher. His greatest scholarly accomplishment--his monetarist theory of how to regulate money and credit--was intellectually flawed at its core and collapsed when the Federal Reserve tried to follow it. The central bank wisely discarded Friedman's money-supply approach before it did more damage. It is now a forgotten relic at the Fed.
Friedman's broader argument--that a society should be governed by self-regulating markets instead of big government--did better but also did not lead to the utopia he promoted. His "free market" faith has produced instead the very thing Friedman regularly denounced: a bastardized system of interest-group politics that serves favored sectors of citizens at the expense of many others. Enterprise and markets were indeed set "free" of government regulation, but big government did not go away (it grew bigger). Only now government acts mainly as patron and protector for the largest, most powerful interests--the same ones that demanded their liberation. Instead of serving the broad general welfare, government enables capital and corporations to feed off the taxpayers' money and convert public assets into private profit centers, shielded from the wrath of any citizens trying to object. If that is what Friedman really had in mind, he should have said so.
His most profound damage, however, was as a moral philosopher. He championed an ethic of unrelenting, unapologetic self-interest that effectively pushed aside human sympathy. In fact, humans' responsibility to one another has been delegitimized--portrayed as an obstacle to the hardheaded analysis that maximizes returns. Friedman explained: "So the question is, do corporate executives, provided they stay within the law, have responsibilities in their business activities other than to make as much money for their stockholders as possible? And my answer to that is, no, they do not."
Pay no attention to the collateral consequences. Your only obligation is to the bottom line. Friedman's message was highly appealing--he promised people a path to freedom--but it triumphed, ultimately, because it served the powerful forces of capital over labor, economic wealth over social concerns. Government was indeed failing on many fronts, especially inflation, and liberalism had no answer. Friedman's answer was alluringly simple. Get rid of government.
People everywhere now understand what Friedman's kind of "freedom" means. America has been brutally coarsened by his success at popularizing this dictum--millions of innocents injured, mutual trust gravely weakened, society demoralized by the hardening terms of life. Most people know in their gut this is wrong but see no easy way to resist it. Friedman's utopia is also drenched in personal corruption. The proliferating scandals in business, finance and government flow directly from his teaching people to go for it and disregard moral qualms. When you tell people in power that their highest purpose in life is to maximize their own returns, there is no limit to how much "good" they will do for the rest of us. I don't recall hearing Friedman express any discomfort. Perhaps he regarded looting and stealing as natural features of capitalism that market forces would eventually correct.
This is what the memorials left out: the cruel quality of Friedman's obliviousness. Art Hilgart, a retired industrial economist, recalls hearing Friedman lecture in 1991 and recommend the destruction of Medicare, welfare, the postal system, Social Security and public education. The audience was dumbfounded.
Finally, a brave young woman asked what this would mean for poverty. "There is no poverty in America," Friedman instructed. A clear voice arose from the back of hall: "Bullshit!" The audience cheered wildly.
Spiral of Destruction
Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction...The chain reaction of evil--hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars--must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.
--Martin Luther King Jr.
--Martin Luther King Jr.
Gender Inequity Hurting Kids
by Michael Doyle
Poverty, violence and discrimination affect women worldwide and undermine their children's futures, a U.N. agency concludes in a report being issued today.
Women in developing countries work longer hours for lower pay, the United Nations Children's Fund has found. Girls are less likely to get past elementary school. In many countries, women are shut out of household decisions.
"Where you see extreme discrimination against women, you see more problems for children," said UNICEF's executive director, Ann Veneman.
In its data-packed State of the World's Children report, UNICEF spells out the problems nation by nation. The microscope can be painfully acute. In Nigeria, 1 million children younger than 5 die annually. Half of Azerbaijan's residents lack adequate sanitation. A third of the young pregnant women in Botswana's capital are HIV-positive.
This year, the organization also identifies potential solutions. Some raise eyebrows, if not hackles.
Gender quotas can be a "potentially effective vehicle for bolstering women's representation" in legislatures, UNICEF notes as one example. More women can lead to better policies, the agency suggests.
The 160-page report favorably cites, as well, the international United Nations Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women.
"When you empower women," Veneman said, "you benefit children."
A native of Modesto, Calif., Veneman has her own experience as a gender trailblazer. She was the first female head of the California Department of Food and Agriculture, and, between 2001 and 2005, she served as the nation's first female secretary of agriculture.
The Bush administration in which she served, though, has steadfastly argued against quotas in this country.
The United States is also the world's only industrialized nation not to ratify the U.N. treaty on discrimination against women.
Drafted in 1979 and since ratified by 185 nations, including Afghanistan and Iraq, the U.N. treaty is criticized by conservatives as inciting lawsuits, family planning or interference in parenting.
Quotas, likewise, get mixed reviews.
UNICEF notes approvingly a fourfold increase, since 1995, in the number of countries where women make up at least 30 percent of the national legislatures. These include such male bastions as Afghanistan, Burundi and the newly established Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste.
"The levels of representation in all three countries are examples of the successful introduction of quotas during their political transitions," states the report, which will be formally released today in a news conference in New York.
Poverty, violence and discrimination affect women worldwide and undermine their children's futures, a U.N. agency concludes in a report being issued today.
Women in developing countries work longer hours for lower pay, the United Nations Children's Fund has found. Girls are less likely to get past elementary school. In many countries, women are shut out of household decisions.
"Where you see extreme discrimination against women, you see more problems for children," said UNICEF's executive director, Ann Veneman.
In its data-packed State of the World's Children report, UNICEF spells out the problems nation by nation. The microscope can be painfully acute. In Nigeria, 1 million children younger than 5 die annually. Half of Azerbaijan's residents lack adequate sanitation. A third of the young pregnant women in Botswana's capital are HIV-positive.
This year, the organization also identifies potential solutions. Some raise eyebrows, if not hackles.
Gender quotas can be a "potentially effective vehicle for bolstering women's representation" in legislatures, UNICEF notes as one example. More women can lead to better policies, the agency suggests.
The 160-page report favorably cites, as well, the international United Nations Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women.
"When you empower women," Veneman said, "you benefit children."
A native of Modesto, Calif., Veneman has her own experience as a gender trailblazer. She was the first female head of the California Department of Food and Agriculture, and, between 2001 and 2005, she served as the nation's first female secretary of agriculture.
The Bush administration in which she served, though, has steadfastly argued against quotas in this country.
The United States is also the world's only industrialized nation not to ratify the U.N. treaty on discrimination against women.
Drafted in 1979 and since ratified by 185 nations, including Afghanistan and Iraq, the U.N. treaty is criticized by conservatives as inciting lawsuits, family planning or interference in parenting.
Quotas, likewise, get mixed reviews.
UNICEF notes approvingly a fourfold increase, since 1995, in the number of countries where women make up at least 30 percent of the national legislatures. These include such male bastions as Afghanistan, Burundi and the newly established Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste.
"The levels of representation in all three countries are examples of the successful introduction of quotas during their political transitions," states the report, which will be formally released today in a news conference in New York.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Buy Nothing Christmas
Buy Nothing Christmas is a national initiative started by Canadian Mennonites who offer a prophetic "no" to the patterns of overconsumption of middle-class North Americans. They are inviting Christians (and others) all over Canada to join a movement to de-commercialize Christmas and re-design a Christian lifestyle that is richer in meaning, smaller in impact upon the earth, and greater in giving to people less-privileged.
Who are the Mennonites?
A group of Christians who are community-oriented, counter-culture pacifists (at least in theory). But this campaign is open to everyone, regardless of religion, faith, creed or conviction.
Can I be a part of Buy Nothing Christmas even if I buy a few things?
Definitely. We are all going to have to buy some things. When you do buy things, we encourage you to remember principles like buying locally, fairly-traded, environmentally friendly packaging, recycling or re-using, buying things that last, and so on. The main aim of this campaign is not to save money (although that can be a side benefit), it's not to slow down the pace of Christmas (although that can be a side benefit), it is to challenge our over-consumptive lifestyle and how it affects global disparities and the earth. So, even though you might buy a few things at Christmas, it's important to think in these global economic terms.
Do you think a Buy Nothing Christmas will make a difference?
It already has made a significant difference. Getting people to recognize problems (North American over-consumption) and begin to imagine new, more life-giving solutions is a big deal.
Are you against giving gifts at Christmas?
Giving gifts at Christmas is a good thing to do--it's a small re-enactment of the incarnation of God's love. Gift-giving, as we know from other occasions (like birthdays, weddings, housewarmings), serves as a kind of social glue that keeps us together. It shows affection, thoughtfulness and love. While gift-giving is a good thing to do at Christmas, that doesn't mean we have to go overboard.
Who are the Mennonites?
A group of Christians who are community-oriented, counter-culture pacifists (at least in theory). But this campaign is open to everyone, regardless of religion, faith, creed or conviction.
Can I be a part of Buy Nothing Christmas even if I buy a few things?
Definitely. We are all going to have to buy some things. When you do buy things, we encourage you to remember principles like buying locally, fairly-traded, environmentally friendly packaging, recycling or re-using, buying things that last, and so on. The main aim of this campaign is not to save money (although that can be a side benefit), it's not to slow down the pace of Christmas (although that can be a side benefit), it is to challenge our over-consumptive lifestyle and how it affects global disparities and the earth. So, even though you might buy a few things at Christmas, it's important to think in these global economic terms.
Do you think a Buy Nothing Christmas will make a difference?
It already has made a significant difference. Getting people to recognize problems (North American over-consumption) and begin to imagine new, more life-giving solutions is a big deal.
Are you against giving gifts at Christmas?
Giving gifts at Christmas is a good thing to do--it's a small re-enactment of the incarnation of God's love. Gift-giving, as we know from other occasions (like birthdays, weddings, housewarmings), serves as a kind of social glue that keeps us together. It shows affection, thoughtfulness and love. While gift-giving is a good thing to do at Christmas, that doesn't mean we have to go overboard.
Challenging the System
by Kit & Ian Danley
Neighborhood Ministries has been working in Phoenix's hard neighborhoods for almost 25 years. What began as a simple emergency food and clothing bank has now grown into a Christian Community Development organization which includes a multiethnic-bilingual church, outreach serving over 1,000 kids and youth weekly, aggressive stay-in-school programs, a medical clinic, jobs placement, head start for preschool children, mentoring programs, a growing arts emphasis, an economic barter system, and a lot more. All of these programs have at their foundations an incarnational, relational heartbeat.
Neighborhood Ministries has been working in Phoenix's hard neighborhoods for almost 25 years. What began as a simple emergency food and clothing bank has now grown into a Christian Community Development organization which includes a multiethnic-bilingual church, outreach serving over 1,000 kids and youth weekly, aggressive stay-in-school programs, a medical clinic, jobs placement, head start for preschool children, mentoring programs, a growing arts emphasis, an economic barter system, and a lot more. All of these programs have at their foundations an incarnational, relational heartbeat.
A Modest Proposal for a Truce on Religion
by Nicholas D. Kristof
If God is omniscient and omnipotent, you can’t help wondering why she doesn’t pull out a thunderbolt and strike down Richard Dawkins.
Or, at least, crash the Web site of www.whydoesgodhateamputees.com. That’s a snarky site that notes that while people regularly credit God for curing cancer or other ailments, amputees never seem to enjoy divine intervention.
"If God were answering the prayers of amputees to regenerate their lost limbs, we would be seeing amputated legs growing back every day," the Web site declares, adding: "It would appear, to an unbiased observer, that God is singling out amputees and purposefully ignoring them."
That site is part of an increasingly assertive, often obnoxious atheist offensive led in part by Professor Dawkins--the Oxford scientist who is author of the new best seller The God Delusion. It’s a militant, in-your-face brand of atheism that he and others are proselytizing for.
He counsels readers to imagine a world without religion and conjures his own glimpse: "Imagine no suicide bombers, no 9/11, no 7/7, no Crusades, no witch hunts, no Gunpowder Plot, no Indian partition, no Israeli/Palestinian wars, no Serb/Croat/Muslim massacres, no persecution of Jews as ‘Christ-killers,’ no Northern Ireland ‘troubles,’ no ‘honor killings,’ no shiny-suited bouffant-haired televangelists fleecing gullible people of their money."
Look elsewhere on the best-seller list and you find an equally acerbic assault on faith: Sam Harris’s “Letter to a Christian Nation.” Mr. Harris mocks conservative Christians for opposing abortion, writing: "20 percent of all recognized pregnancies end in miscarriage. There is an obvious truth here that cries out for acknowledgment: if God exists, He is the most prolific abortionist of all."
The number of avowed atheists is tiny, with only 1 to 2 percent of Americans describing themselves in polls as atheists. But about 15 percent now say that they are not affiliated with any religion, and this vague category is sometimes described as the fastest-growing "religious group" in America today (some surveys back that contention, while others don’t).
Granted, many Americans may not yet be willing to come out of the closet and acknowledge their irreligious views. In polls, more than 90 percent of Americans have said that they would be willing to vote for a woman, a Jew or a black, and 79 percent would be willing to vote for a gay person. But at last count, only 37 percent would consider voting for an atheist.
Such discrimination on the basis of (non) belief is insidious and intolerant, and undermines our ability to have far-reaching discussions about faith and politics. Mr. Harris, for example, makes some legitimate policy points, such as criticism of conservative Christians who try to block research on stem cells because of their potential to become humans.
"Almost every cell in your body is a potential human being, given our recent advances in genetic engineering," notes Mr. Harris. "Every time you scratch your nose, you have committed a Holocaust of potential human beings."
Yet the tone of this Charge of the Atheist Brigade is often just as intolerant--and mean. It’s contemptuous and even...a bit fundamentalist.
"These writers share a few things with the zealous religionists they oppose, such as a high degree of dogmatism and an aggressive rhetorical style," says John Green of the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life. "Indeed, one could speak of a secular fundamentalism that resembles religious fundamentalism. This may be one of those cases where opposites converge."
Granted, religious figures have been involved throughout history in the worst kinds of atrocities. But as Mao Zedong, Joseph Stalin and Pol Pot show, so have atheists.
Moreover, for all the slaughters in the name of religion over the centuries, there is another side of the ledger. Every time I travel in the poorest parts of Africa, I see missionary hospitals that are the only source of assistance to desperate people. God may not help amputees sprout new limbs, but churches do galvanize their members to support soup kitchens, homeless shelters and clinics that otherwise would not exist. Religious constituencies have pushed for more action on AIDS, malaria, sex trafficking and Darfur’s genocide, and believers often give large proportions of their incomes to charities that are a lifeline to the neediest.
Now that the Christian Right has largely retreated from the culture wars, let’s hope that the Atheist Left doesn’t revive them. We’ve suffered enough from religious intolerance that the last thing the world needs is irreligious intolerance.
If God is omniscient and omnipotent, you can’t help wondering why she doesn’t pull out a thunderbolt and strike down Richard Dawkins.
Or, at least, crash the Web site of www.whydoesgodhateamputees.com. That’s a snarky site that notes that while people regularly credit God for curing cancer or other ailments, amputees never seem to enjoy divine intervention.
"If God were answering the prayers of amputees to regenerate their lost limbs, we would be seeing amputated legs growing back every day," the Web site declares, adding: "It would appear, to an unbiased observer, that God is singling out amputees and purposefully ignoring them."
That site is part of an increasingly assertive, often obnoxious atheist offensive led in part by Professor Dawkins--the Oxford scientist who is author of the new best seller The God Delusion. It’s a militant, in-your-face brand of atheism that he and others are proselytizing for.
He counsels readers to imagine a world without religion and conjures his own glimpse: "Imagine no suicide bombers, no 9/11, no 7/7, no Crusades, no witch hunts, no Gunpowder Plot, no Indian partition, no Israeli/Palestinian wars, no Serb/Croat/Muslim massacres, no persecution of Jews as ‘Christ-killers,’ no Northern Ireland ‘troubles,’ no ‘honor killings,’ no shiny-suited bouffant-haired televangelists fleecing gullible people of their money."
Look elsewhere on the best-seller list and you find an equally acerbic assault on faith: Sam Harris’s “Letter to a Christian Nation.” Mr. Harris mocks conservative Christians for opposing abortion, writing: "20 percent of all recognized pregnancies end in miscarriage. There is an obvious truth here that cries out for acknowledgment: if God exists, He is the most prolific abortionist of all."
The number of avowed atheists is tiny, with only 1 to 2 percent of Americans describing themselves in polls as atheists. But about 15 percent now say that they are not affiliated with any religion, and this vague category is sometimes described as the fastest-growing "religious group" in America today (some surveys back that contention, while others don’t).
Granted, many Americans may not yet be willing to come out of the closet and acknowledge their irreligious views. In polls, more than 90 percent of Americans have said that they would be willing to vote for a woman, a Jew or a black, and 79 percent would be willing to vote for a gay person. But at last count, only 37 percent would consider voting for an atheist.
Such discrimination on the basis of (non) belief is insidious and intolerant, and undermines our ability to have far-reaching discussions about faith and politics. Mr. Harris, for example, makes some legitimate policy points, such as criticism of conservative Christians who try to block research on stem cells because of their potential to become humans.
"Almost every cell in your body is a potential human being, given our recent advances in genetic engineering," notes Mr. Harris. "Every time you scratch your nose, you have committed a Holocaust of potential human beings."
Yet the tone of this Charge of the Atheist Brigade is often just as intolerant--and mean. It’s contemptuous and even...a bit fundamentalist.
"These writers share a few things with the zealous religionists they oppose, such as a high degree of dogmatism and an aggressive rhetorical style," says John Green of the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life. "Indeed, one could speak of a secular fundamentalism that resembles religious fundamentalism. This may be one of those cases where opposites converge."
Granted, religious figures have been involved throughout history in the worst kinds of atrocities. But as Mao Zedong, Joseph Stalin and Pol Pot show, so have atheists.
Moreover, for all the slaughters in the name of religion over the centuries, there is another side of the ledger. Every time I travel in the poorest parts of Africa, I see missionary hospitals that are the only source of assistance to desperate people. God may not help amputees sprout new limbs, but churches do galvanize their members to support soup kitchens, homeless shelters and clinics that otherwise would not exist. Religious constituencies have pushed for more action on AIDS, malaria, sex trafficking and Darfur’s genocide, and believers often give large proportions of their incomes to charities that are a lifeline to the neediest.
Now that the Christian Right has largely retreated from the culture wars, let’s hope that the Atheist Left doesn’t revive them. We’ve suffered enough from religious intolerance that the last thing the world needs is irreligious intolerance.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
In Community
It is in community that we come to see God in the other. It is in community that we see our own emptiness filled up. It is community that calls me beyond the pinched horizons of my own life, my own country, my own race, and gives me the gifts I do not have within me.
--Joan Chittister
--Joan Chittister
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Prison Record
A record 7 million people--one in every 32 U.S. adults--were behind bars, on probation or on parole by the end of last year.
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