On Cussing in Front of Pastors

I am a pastor. Although I’m not ashamed of my vocation, I still break into a cold sweat every time someone asks me what I do for a living. Why? Because discovering that the person with whom you’re talking is a pastor seems to be equivalent to discovering that the unmarked vehicle in front of you is a police car.  As soon as I say, “I’m a pastor,” people immediately slam the brakes on our relationship because they assume that I’m pointing a moral radar gun at them. It's so predictable that it would be funny if it weren’t so alienating. Usually, you can expect one of the following responses: people will start trying to convince me that they're a good person or they will avoid talking about my work altogether. Most of all, people offer us profuse apologies out of nowhere. If someone cusses or tells  dirty joke or loses their temper in my presence, they stop themselves, turn to me and say something like this: “I’m sorry for doing that in front of you.” [1]

I recognize that this kind of apology is meant to show respect to my religion in general or to me in particular. That’s fine. The irony, however, is that such an apology creates the very effect that it sets out to avoid: it forces me to judge them. Honestly, when someone I don’t know cusses (or does something else) in front of me, I don’t judge them. In fact, the Bible commands me not to. Although Christians are called to “judge” in certain settings, it is always to be done with extreme caution and it is never to be directed at strangers or even acquaintances. [2] So when I meet people at social gatherings or talk with them in a business environment, my “moral radar gun” is turned off. However, if they offer an apology to me, then I have to judge because they have implicitly put a judgment in my mouth.  The unspoken premise that precedes the apology is this: “Whoops. I just did something that you believe is wrong and therefore that offends you. Consequently, I’m sorry for doing that in front of you.”

I want to reply, "Did I ever say that the action was wrong? You're just assuming that." In all likelihood, I wasn't "judging" their action either as morally acceptable or morally flawed when they made the comment, but now they've asked me to make a public statement about it. When they say, "I'm sorry," I have to either confirm or deny the wrongness of their action in my response. If I say something like, “Well, thanks for apologizing,” then I confirm not only that that the action was wrong but also the assumptions that I was judging them and that I am easily offended, which I really want to do that. On the other hand, if I say something like, “Oh, that’s ok,” then I have given my moral approval to their action, which is also not something that I want to do. Either way, I have to make a judgment. Thus, I almost always come away from these situations not feeling very good. [3]

But I think I’ve come up with a solution. As I was thinking about this last night, I realized that a person who apologizes to a pastor for their action not only forces the pastor to make a moral judgment but also defers taking moral responsibility for themselves. When you say, “I’m sorry for doing this in front of you,” it’s unclear whether you see the action itself as wrong or whether you are only apologizing for doing it in front of a pastor. So my solution is to turn the act of judging back on the person who apologizes. The next time someone apologizes for cussing around me, for example, I plan to ask, “Do you believe that cursing is wrong?” If they say, “yes,” then I can forgive them in accordance with their moral values. If they say, “no” then I’ll tell them not to be ashamed for doing things which they don’t believe are wrong. In either case, I can let them know that cuss words don’t have the same effect on me that water has on the Wicked Witch of the West: I don't melt when I hear them.  Pastors are not super-sensitive people, any more than we are super-holy. So, unless you commit an action that is aimed at me specifically, don’t apologize to me for it. If you do, I’ll use it as an opportunity for me to explore your moral values rather than mine.

End Notes

[1] This experience is not unique to pastors. Anyone who is known by their peers to have a high ethical standard is likely to experience something like this.

[2] To talk about the Biblical perspective on judging is to enter a heated discussion. Most people, looking to Matthew 7:1-5, assume that Jesus taught his followers never to judge, but that isn’t what it says. The point of that text is to emphasize that we must judge ourselves first and foremost rather than being self-righteous or hypocritical. Later, in Matthew 18:15-18, Jesus offers a model for how we should confront other people about their sins, which implies that we must judge them.

Another passage that I find very helpful is 1 Corinthians 5:9-13. Here, Paul argues that we are only supposed to judge those “inside the church.” From my Anabaptist perspective, I believe that this means we are only encouraged to “judge” those who have voluntarily entered into a covenant with us to follow Christ and to engage in mutual correction, rebuke, and encouragement. It is not license to judge any who call themselves Christians.

[3] Because this happens to pastors so often, we often respond in one of two ways. The first response is that we try too hard to make people feel morally comfortable around us. Some pastors dress down, get tattoos, frequent bars, and swear just to convince people that we’re not judging them. While there’s nothing necessarily wrong with any of these actions, it makes it very difficult for this kind of pastor to offer a prophetic or moral critique when this becomes necessary. The second response is that we stop resisting the “holier than thou” image that is imposed upon us and just pretend that we are, in fact, better than other people. This, of course, leads to hypocrisy: it encourages us to hide our flaws and to force ourselves/our family members to play into this image of perfection. 

Unfortunately, I don’t have a “third option” for pastors to take. We can’t change the fact that our vocation makes people uncomfortable. The best we can do is to continue interacting with people and let them see that our moral judgments are aimed at ourselves (with some exceptions). This may not be “relevant” or “effective,” but it is faithful. 

A Critique of “Holding Biblical Texts in Tension”

A few Sundays ago, I preached a sermon on Psalm 85, which includes a lot of language about the wrath of God. Recognizing that this language has been used abusively in modern times, I spent a little time explaining what it means. "God's wrath" represents the suffering we experience when we (as individuals and as a society) experience the consequences of our own sins. [1] This is not a punishment that God inflicts on us directly, as it is our own actions that create this type of suffering. However, it is a punishment that God inflicts on us indirectly, by stepping back from the situation and allowing sin to run its course. Because sin is intrinsically destructive, this indirect response truly constitutes punishment, for sin – left to itself – will leave its captives in torment. This is, by the way, the essence of hell, which theologians have long defined as the absence of God. [2]

A few days after I preached this message, a member of my congregation sent me a very respectful email that challenged me on this subject. He wrote, "Regarding your observation that God's response to sin in the examples cited was to step back and let the consequences fall as they may, were you suggesting that that is one of several ways God responds to sin in the Biblical record?" [3] As a matter of fact, that is not what I was suggesting. I was pushing it further, claiming that this is a privileged definition of God’s wrath by which we should interpret divine wrath whenever it comes up. Nevertheless, as a Biblical scholar, I can’t help but appreciate the insight of his question. Undoubtedly, there are several cases in the Bible in which “God’s wrath” indicates something vindictive or retributive, not in keeping with the “indirect” interpretation of God’s wrath that I promoted above. I can’t deny that God was directly punishing sin in the stories of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah in Genesis 19 and the striking down Herod in Acts 12. Furthermore if I am being rigorously honest, I must also admit that these destructive stories conflict with other Biblical descriptions of God as loving and merciful. [4] So, the million-dollar question is, what should Christians make of conflicting passages of Scripture? If we are called to make claims about God on the basis of the Bible, how can we do this when the Bible itself offers differing views of God?

For our current purposes, I would like to suggest that there are three basic responses to this problem of internal Biblical conflict. First, one could simply affirm those passages that conform to one description of God and ignore or reject those that conflict with that description. This is often dismissively referred to as “picking and choosing,” but there are some intriguing arguments in favor of this approach. [5] Second, we could do what the majority of Christian theologians have done through the centuries, which is to try to find unity within those conflicting passages. This is commonly referred to as “harmonizing,” and it usually involves re-interpreting the texts we find problematic in new ways so that they cohere with the texts we find attractive. These interpretations are not always convincing, but they give us a way to affirm the whole Bible. Finally, a third approach would be to acknowledge that there are irreconcilable differences in the Bible and to make a commitment neither to ignore nor to harmonize these differences. This is generally referred to as “holding Biblical texts in tension,” and it strives for honesty and faithfulness, but at the cost of coming to any concrete conclusions about what the Bible says. 

In seminary, the preference of my professors and classmates was overwhelmingly for option #3: “holding texts in tension.” We were taught that the good scholar or the good pastor acknowledges the conflict or “tension” of Biblical arguments and doesn’t try to twist them to fit her theology. Undoubtedly, there are some merits to this approach. From a scholarly perspective, your best chance at learning something new from a text begins when you set aside your agenda and listen to what it has to say. From a spiritual perspective, acknowledging that the Bible is complex and that you can’t make every verse fit together is an exercise in humility. Upon affirming this approach, my professors guaranteed that the other two approaches would be viewed with some disdain. Anyone who tried to make a Biblical argument that selectively emphasized a certain set of verses would be accused of not “holding the texts in tension.” [6] As a result, we were encouraged to hold the pro-government and anti-government elements in Scripture in tension, the demand for order in the Church and the promise of freedom in the Spirit in tension, the different presentations of God’s wrath in tension, etc.

This is all well and good until you are confronted with a situation in the real world that demands a Biblical response. If you find yourself in a situation where you must choose whether or not to obey the unjust demands of an oppressive government, or whether the need for church order is great enough that you should muffle your concerns about a congregation’s unfaithfulness, or if you are asked whether someone’s premature death is a manifestation of the wrath of God, it won’t suffice to offer a list of verses that could be used on either side of the argument. These situations need a “Yes” or “No.” Now, it should probably be a nuanced “Yes” or “No,” one that proceeds cautiously and sensitively, one that acknowledges the weaknesses embedded in it, one that recognizes its own fallibility, etc. Nevertheless, Christians are required and empowered to speak a clear word of truth in these kinds of complex situations. And the moment that we do that, as soon as we take a stance on the basis of some Biblical texts – with the awareness that other texts could be cited which would oppose this stance – it becomes clear that we do, in fact, have an interpretive preference, that we do privilege some verses over others, and that we are already involved in harmonizing the Bible. And what is wrong with that? Jesus privileged certain verses above others, the apostles reinterpreted OT texts so they would conform with the Lordship of Christ, and the Bible itself is intrinsically a harmonization! [7] Although it has its dangers, harmonizing Scripture is not a bad thing. On the contrary, it is an inevitable part of preaching the gospel.

One of the dangers of harmonization is that Christians can get so comfortable with their reading of the Bible and so convinced by their own hermeneutic that they are no longer able to be challenged and convicted by the text. I think this is one of the main reasons that my professors encouraged us to “hold texts in tension” rather than to quickly harmonize them: on the surface, this seems to prevent the kind of arrogance that claims to have the Bible completely figured out. However, there is a better way to try to integrate this kind of interpretive humility in our lives: to establish communion with Christians who read Scripture differently. Because other Christians privilege different texts and harmonize the conflicts differently, these brothers and sisters can offer us plenty of opportunity for wrestling with the readings of the Bible that we have come to accept. [8] However, genuine dialogue must begin by acknowledging where each side is coming from, and we can’t do this honestly unless we evaluate and own the ways in which we already harmonize Scripture.

So, given all of that, how should I have answered the church member who challenged me for pushing one reading of God’s wrath over and against other Biblical possibilities? Perhaps like this: “You know, I have to admit that there are Biblical passages that don’t seem to take this view of God’s wrath, and I’m not sure what to do with those. But when I read the Biblical story as a whole, this is my best understanding about what God’s wrath is. If you have a better understanding, which incorporates more of the Biblical record, I’d be open to hearing it. However, I am compelled not just to offer a fair interpretation of texts but to make a proclamation about God. And based on my reading of the Biblical story, I genuinely hold this to be the true nature of God’s wrath. How do you see it?” [9]

End Notes

[1] It took a lot of self-restraint for me not to write this sentence as, “I believe that ‘God’s wrath’ represents the suffering we experience…” Of course, I do believe that God’s wrath represents the suffering that our sin creates, but why does it feel so important to add the words ‘I believe that’ at the beginning of the sentence? If all the words indicate are, “I myself hold this to be true,” then there’s no need for me to write them. After all, if I am telling you that something is true, it’s clearly implied that I also believe it. However, that is not all that the words “I believe” indicate.

When I begin a sentence with “I believe that,” I am lessening the force of my claim by moving it from the realm of fact into the realm of opinion. There it is less threatening because it doesn’t impose a truth on someone else. Consider the difference between these two statements: “Sean Connery was the best James Bond” and “I believe that Sean Connery was the best James Bond.” Although they mean the same thing, the first sentence is asking for a fight, while the second statement is just expressing a sentiment.

Living in the United States, we have learned the pluralistic etiquette that teaches us to present all of our religious beliefs as opinions. We are permitted to have our beliefs, even express our beliefs, so long as we promise to contain them in the realm of opinion rather than fact, faith rather than reason, and the private sphere rather than the public sphere. Christians on both sides of the theological and political continuums have unwittingly embraced these assumptions, which necessarily distorts the radical and political nature of Jesus’ message. Perhaps the most challenging task for Christians today is to drop, “I believe,” from their vocabulary. It’s easy enough to tell your non-Christian friends and neighbors, “I believe that Jesus is Lord.” It’s much harder to say, “Jesus is Lord,” in their presence.

[2] For a more thorough defense of this idea, see my post, "Heaven and Hell Reconsidered"

[3] I received permission from this person to include his question in my blog. I am so grateful to be a part of a congregation of people like him who challenge me and dialogue with me on these things.

[4] Consider Ezekiel 33:11, “‘As I live!’ declares the Lord God, ‘I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but would rather that the wicked turn from his way and live.” Also consider 2 Peter 3:9, “The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.” These are not the only two verses that oppose a vindictive or retributive view of God’s wrath, nor are the examples cited the only passages that conform to it. This is a deep-running conflict in Scripture. I just offer these as particularly clear articulations of the opposing sides, intentionally showing that they both have a presence in each Testament.

[5] The best arguments I have heard in favor of this selective approach have come from the liberation traditions. These groups point out that specific verses have been particularly responsible for encouraging racism, violence, and genocide, and that these verses should be clearly identified and rejected by churches so that this cycle of violence continues. I am not convinced that this is the only response to oppressive and historically-loaded passages in Scripture, but the point is worth mentioning. The Africana Bible is a great resource for this kind of thinking.

[6] In my opinion, this is why there is tension between the Biblical and theological departments in many seminaries. Since theologians are no longer allowed to harmonize Scripture, they have no Biblical resources by which to create coherent theologies. Any time they cite Scripture, they risk receiving criticism from their Biblical counterparts for not really understanding the Bible. As a result, they have often times abandoned the Bible as their primary resource and turned to more “centralized” sources such as Augustine, Aquinas, Wesley, etc.

[7] Jesus commonly gave certain texts priority over others. For example, in Matthew 22:34-40, he identified Deut. 6:5 “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength,” as the greatest commandment and Leviticus 19:18, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” as the second greatest commandment. This clearly shows that some passages have more authority than others. In an interaction with the Pharisees in Mark 10, Jesus argued that Genesis 1:27 and 2:24 should overrule the “concession” that God offered in Deuteronomy 24:1-3.

As far as the apostles go, the New Testament and especially the gospels are FILLED with passages that are often taken out of their original context and given new meaning, as any critical scholar would readily admit. For example, Matthew cites Jeremiah 31:5 in Matt. 2:18 as a prophecy that Herod would slaughter infants to try to kill Jesus. But if you read the actual chapter in Jeremiah, especially the verse that follows it, it is obvious that “Rachel” is bemoaning the diaspora or forcible removal of the Jews from their land, not this specific event. However, I don’t think that Matthew is simply misusing the OT. He is trying to frame Jesus’ story as Israel’s story, so that every stage of his life corresponds to one of the key events in Israel’s history. Thus, this quotation gives new meaning Jeremiah 31:5 without necessarily violating the original meaning.

I argue that the Bible is intrinsically a harmonization because the sixty-six books within it were written without an awareness of all of the others or the expectation that they would be compiled into one great “book,” as one grand religious text. By putting the books together in one volume and calling them “the Bible” (i.e. “the Book”), we predispose believers to embrace the (appropriate) assumption that these texts go together, that they somehow constitute one continuous story. If we were really opposed to harmonizing, then we should call this collection of books, “A Christian Anthology” rather than “The Book.” But once we do that, we will start raising questions about what books should and shouldn’t belong to this anthology, which completely undermines the purpose of “holding texts in tension.”

[8] I suppose I need to qualify this claim. It is possible to be “in conversation” with other Christians without being challenged by them, if we accept the pluralistic framework. That framework says that religious views are interesting particularities that reflect on the people who have them but that don’t have anything to say to people of other religious commitments. Unfortunately, this pluralism threatens to undermine the Biblical call to “encouragement, correction, and rebuke” – or what Methodists call “accountability.” John Howard Yoder taught me that true ecumenism involves critiquing other versions of Christianity while at the same time seeking to listen to my own blind spots that other Christians may see. For more on this, read the anthology of Yoder’s works, The Royal Priesthood.

[9] I didn’t answer him with this much wisdom, but perhaps he will read this blog and it will give him a chance to respond.

Well, I Guess I Have to Boycott Some NFL Games This Year…

                I am a new member of the Mennonite Church USA, and my church graciously paid for me to go to the denominational convention in Phoenix this past year so that I could get an idea of what the Mennonites were all about. What a wonderful experience! One of the speakers was a woman by the name of Cheryl Bear who spoke about Christianity, the pursuit of justice, and her Native American experience. In her address, she called my attention to the tremendous discrimination that Native Americans have faced and continue to face in our country. Unfortunately, unlike the racism experienced by other groups, this racism has gotten very little national attention and thus has gone by unchecked. For example, did you know that Native Americans were not granted the right to vote until 1924, and that some states continued to prohibit them from voting until 1948? That’s later than both African-American suffrage and women’s suffrage! Or did you know that Native American children were forcibly removed from their homes and sent to Euro-American schools, whose explicit purpose was to break the Native Americans away from their “barbarous” culture into “civilized” Euro-American values? [2] Did you know that the last of these schools didn’t close until the 1990’s?

                This is disturbing historical information, but I didn't really think about the continued racism that Native Americans face or my involvement in it until I arrived back in Indianapolis. Within a week of coming back, someone invited me to go a minor league game, to watch our local team, “the Indianapolis Indians,” compete. All of a sudden, I realized how much I have been a part of the racist system that discriminates against Native Americans. I watch sports teams all the time with names like, “Washington Redskins” and “Kansas City Chiefs,” and I have never raised any serious complaints against these titles or showed any resistance to them. Thus, my actions give the message: “This is no big deal. Making caricatures and using racial offensive identifiers for this group of people is ok.” Well, I can’t do that anymore. I am hereby boycotting any games or products associated with any team that uses a Native American caricature as their mascot. I would invite you to join me, and also to sign the petition below that tell an owner of one of those teams that racial team names are not ok with us. [3]

                Now, I imagine that some of you are thinking, “Woah, woah, woah. You’re making way too big of a deal about this. It’s just a harmless sports name. And why is it even offensive? After all, it emphasizes the bravery and/or fierceness of these groups.” The short answer is this: It doesn’t matter why it is offensive. I have some guesses as to why, but my guesses are irrelevant. The important point is that Native Americans have been making formal protests against this at least since 1992, and since it bothers them, we must stop. [4] What’s incredible is that sports owners have rejected this request by arguing to Native Americans that those titles aren’t offensive. Let me give you an analogy: Imagine if someone took a picture of you without your permission and then proceeded to blow it up and hang it in a public place. Now imagine that you saw it, hated the way it looked, and asked the person to take it down. Then the person replies, “Well, I disagree with you. It’s not a bad picture. So I’m going to keep it up there.” What the heck!?! Can you imagine how frustrating that would be? It’s a picture of you. If you don’t like it, then they shouldn’t be able to display it. Period. In the same way, names like “Chiefs” and “Indians” are portraits of certain people groups, and if it’s offensive to them, then we have no right to display them, especially for something as insignificant as our entertainment.

               Here’s the thing: This would be such an easy thing to change. It wouldn’t take any major legal work or redistribution of resources. All it requires is a simple name change. But the owners of the teams with these names won’t do it unless they realize they’re losing money from it, which means we need to stop supporting these teams. Also, I am starting the habit of replacing any Indian team name with the word “Racist” whenever I refer to one of these teams, to call attention to the offensive nature of this language. For example, “Alfred Morris, of the Washington Racists, was one of my best pick-ups last year in fantasy football.” So please join me in resisting this social evil.

Notes

[1] For more on Cheryl Bear, you can visit her website at http://www.cherylbear.com/.

[2] For a general introduction, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Native_American_boarding_schools. If you ever find yourself in Phoenix, AZ, the Heard Museum has a great section that introduces you to this experience.

[3] The only online petition I have been able to find is the petition against the “Washington Redskins,” whose name is certainly the most offensive of any professional sports team, as “redskin” is a racial slur. Even if you disagree with me about other team names, I would encourage you to sign this petition: http://www.change.org/petitions/washington-redskins-ask-daniel-snyder-to-change-the-name. If any of you know of other petitions or would like to start them, please include links in the comments section.

[4] The most easily accessible information is about the “Washington Redskins.” The following articles offer a helpful introduction to the controversy and manipulation surrounding that issue. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_Redskins_mascot_controversy, http://bleacherreport.com/articles/1696718-daniel-snyder-and-nfl-embarrassed-as-washington-name-change-support-grows.  I know that other battles have been fought as well, including a protest by Native Americans at an “Indianapolis Indians” game. Unfortunately, it’s taking me more than a few minutes to track that information down. However, if anyone really wants more information or feels compelled to challenge me on my contention that Native Americans find terms like “Chiefs” and “Indians” offensive, let me know, and I’ll do the work another day.

The Bigger Picture in the Zimmerman Verdict

I have read a handful of articles and watched a couple of videos recently that argue passionately for George Zimmerman’s innocence. These articles generally make two points: First, that Zimmerman certainly had no hatred toward African-Americans. He grew up with African-Americans, befriended African-Americans, and even advocated for African-Americans in difficult situations. Second, that Trayvon Martin was dangerous. Martin had a history of drugs and violence, knew Mixed Martial Arts, and even physically assaulted Zimmerman. Taken together, these arguments conclude that Zimmerman did not kill Martin because he was a racist but because Martin was threatening his life, which presumably justifies the verdict that declared Zimmerman “not guilty”. Although there is a lot of truth in what these articles are saying, they entirely miss the bigger picture.   

For those of you who are defending Zimmerman, I’d invite you to take a couple of minutes to read this post and consider what’s going on here from another perspective. But first, I want to affirm a part of what you are doing. One thing that I appreciate about the recent flurry of articles defending Zimmerman is that they seem to be concerned for Zimmerman’s well-being. People who go on trial – especially highly publicized trials – are socially vulnerable for the rest of their lives. Zimmerman will never be able to escape the shadow that these events have cast over his life, and he at least deserves to have his story told in a fair light.

That being said, I must point out that all of these arguments all focus on the exchange between Zimmerman and Martin that occurred after Zimmerman made the decision to pursue Martin. To move the focus there is to preemptively frame the debate in Zimmerman’s favor. Had this been a different situation, where Martin sprang out of the woods and started viciously attacking Zimmerman, who happened to have a gun and decided to use it in self-defense, then there would be no debate, no outrage from the black community. But that’s not what happened. Remember, the entire encounter began with racial profiling. Of course, a number of white people do not believe that Zimmerman was racially profiling Martin. After all, the evidence suggests that he cared deeply for African-American people, that he wasn’t a racist, right? Well, that depends on what you mean by racism, which is why I find it useful to distinguish between hard racism and soft racism. [1]

Hard racism is the explicit and intentional persecution of people who happen to have a different skin color. Members of the KKK or Neo-Nazis, or people who reject or insult others on the basis of their ethnicity, are all hard racists. Fortunately, there aren’t a lot of hard racists lurking around in the United States anymore. Through reforming our laws, educating our children, and checking our attitudes, we have made hard racism socially unacceptable, and reduced it to the margins. Is hard racism over? Well, it hasn’t been completely eradicated, but it no longer enjoys the support and status of dominant society. [2] It certainly has no place in this current trial. I firmly believe that George Zimmerman was not a hard racist.

But there is also soft racism, the kind of racism which is not hateful in nature but which nevertheless makes instinctive judgments about people on the basis of their race. Almost all of us are soft racists to one extent or another. Generally, soft racism begins with by distrusting another person –the group of African-American teenage boys who are walking down the street, the Latino who is adamantly denying that he did something wrong, the Arab-American who is getting on a plane flight, etc. This distrust or suspicion then influences our behavior. White people go the other direction to avoid black crowds, Latinos are tuned out while they try telling their stories, Arab-Americans are searched more thoroughly by security, and all of these interactions become emotionally-charged. Now often times it ends there and no further injustice occurs, but these little discriminations have a tendency to escalate and to accumulate, to take root in people’s identities and in social structures. So, for example, wealthy people – both black and white [3] – tend to avoid African-American boys so often that they pull their kids out of black schools, move out of black neighborhoods, and create ghettos that are devoid of funding, businesses, and strong education programs. The discrimination against Latinos causes them to lose more arguments with business managers and police officers, which leads to higher criminal records, insurance rates, and employment problems. People of Arab origin both here and around the world face tremendous discrimination, to the point that we have imprisoned some of them without trial at places like Guantanamo and elsewhere. In a worst case scenario, this kind of “soft racism” could even kill someone, which is, in fact, exactly what happened to Trayvon Martin. [4]

One final point about soft racism before I talk about the trial: it is impossible to prove that it has occurred. Although you can prove that an action was committed (e.g. an Arab person was frisked by a security guard or a black person was interrogated by a police officer), you can never prove why it was committed. And that is what makes it so frustrating. People of color keep coming up against discriminations that white people – on the whole – won’t acknowledge. This makes it impossible for people of color to address the social evils that flow from those discriminations or legally defend themselves against discrimination. This is why the Zimmerman trial is so important.

Now, let me reiterate that Zimmerman is not a hard racist, as far as I can tell. I don’t believe that he had an agenda to hurt a black person on the night that he shot Martin. This, however, does not acquit him of soft racism. After all, let’s honestly ask, “Why did he follow Martin in the first place?” Here was a young man who was by himself, unarmed, and not threatening anyone. Without knowing anything about him, Zimmerman decided he was a threat, called the police, and pursued him against their recommendation while armed with a gun. Was this soft racism? Some of you are saying, “Well you can’t know for sure,” or “You can’t prove it,” and you’re right. That’s exactly the problem! You can never prove that soft racism has occurred. But indulge me in this thought experiment: Do you honestly believe that if a short white girl who was wearing the exact same clothing and performing the exact same behavior, Zimmerman would have followed her with a gun in hand? I don’t. If that’s the case, then Trayvon was discriminated against on the basis of his race, and that discrimination was the first event in a series of events that led to his death. Now, in the rest of that series of events, did Martin contribute in any way to the events that led to his death? Maybe. Perhaps the only thing that Zimmerman did wrong was to racially profile Martin in the first place [5], but even if so, that was wrong and it got someone killed. So, for people who have to deal with soft racism, individually and social, on a regular basis, what does this verdict mean?  The US government is officially declaring that it can offer no protection to people of color from soft racism, even if it kills them. How terrifying and disempowering!

Perhaps you think that I’m making too much of this. Perhaps you believe that a trial is not supposed to be a national spectacle but only an assessment of one individual’s guilt or innocence, and that the only relevant question is whether George Zimmerman committed murder or not. I disagree. Every trial serves the dual function of judging individual cases and making a public statement about justice. This is why Supreme Court cases like Roe v. Wade or Brown v. Board of Education are so important. They are not just trying to help a handful of individuals work through a really complicated situation; they are making a statement about justice and setting a legal precedent for how it will be pursued in our country. Thus, a public, legal action must be taken to respond adequately to this event. The call for a “fair verdict” in the Zimmerman case is not ultimately a call for revenge but for repentance; it’s a call for the public acknowledgment that soft racism is wrong and that we will do something about it.

But maybe Zimmerman isn’t the proper scapegoat for this necessary public repentance. Perhaps Zimmerman was rightfully declared innocent on the basis of Florida’s “Stand your ground law,” but this only means that Florida’s laws are themselves guilty of injustice. Because soft racism goes completely unregulated, laws like “Stand your ground” give racism a space in which it can flourish. People can invoke the power to kill from “Stand your ground,” and protect themselves under the invisibility of motivation. This is why black leaders here in Indianapolis and across the country are responding to the verdict by demanding the state governments to consider repealing their own versions of “Stand your ground” laws. [6] For if Zimmerman didn’t do anything illegal, then the law must be changed. After all, if there are no legal consequences for Martin’s death, that represents the United States’ tacit approval of soft racism. And that’s the bigger picture here. This is not just a question of whether one man was truly defending himself or not; it’s a question of whether those unnamed racial forces which perpetuate so much injustice in our society, will be publicly named and defeated.

End Notes

[1] I have found this distinction between "soft racism" and "hard racism" to be very helpful. For an excellent article, see http://sabhlokcity.com/2010/09/soft-racism-in-the-west-the-last-frontier-for-equal-freedom/. That being said, I realize that the boundary between the two types of racism probably breaks down, as they are interconnected at least to some extent. Nevertheless, I think it is a valuable heuristic distinction to make, especially considering how ambiguous and loaded the term "racism" is.

[2] However, hard racists can still do a lot of damage from the margins. Almost every person of color that I know has had at least one negative encounter with a reactionary hard racist, and those traumatic experiences tend to stick with people for the rest of their lives. So, even though we have won the war, let’s not stop fighting the battles on hard racism.

[3] Yes, you can be a soft racist against your own “race.” Perhaps this is the most common way to be racist.

[4] See the movie Crash for a beautiful demonstration of the way soft racism can escalate, and what kind of soul-searching must be done for there to be any redemption.

[5] I do not personally believe that this was the only thing that Zimmerman did wrong, but even if it was, the argument would stand.

[6] See http://www.indystar.com/article/20130720/NEWS/307200031/Trayvon-Martin-supporters-Gov-Pence-review-Indiana-s-stand-your-ground-law

Hiatus

Dear friends,

I am sorry that I have been so bad about keeping up this blog. I have been going through a major life transition, which has left me little time for writing. Also, I am going out of the country for six weeks, and I won't be able to blog again until the second week of May. Once I return, I hope to get on a weekly or biweekly posting schedule.

In any case, I thought I would take this time to ask anyone for feedback about what to write about next. Some options include...

1) My Political Theology/Philosophy (which I started over a month ago but haven't finished)
2) Why I Believe in Christianity
3) Biblical, Theological, Philosophical, and Practical Arguments for Pacifism
4) Submitting to Scripture without Buying into Infallibility
5) A Different Way to Think of the Death and Life of Jesus (navigating through atonement theories)

Let me know what you think! If I get multiple votes in one direction, that's what I'll address when I come back.

Gratefully,

Brian

Re-Thinking Politics #1: The Relationship Between Church and State

Many of my closest friends and family members consider my political views to be "extreme". I am not offended by this label, but I do get frustrated when people dismiss my perspective without really considering it, just because it falls outside of the normal scope of accepted positions. In response, I hope to offer a series of blog posts that clarifies my political understanding. And I would like to start with the tricky issue of the relationship between religion and government, for this has been the central issue that has caused me to bounce all over the political spectrum until I sorted this out. 

Before I can start making an argument, I have to acknowledge that this is emotionally sensitive for a lot of people. Unfortunately, there seems to be a "culture war" between Republicans and Democrats on this very topic, and both groups feel religiously oppressed by the other. [E1] As the two sides have clashed over the role religion should play in the political sphere, they have increasingly utilized rhetoric that belittles the other party as stubborn, unintelligent, or immoral. Of course, once you start to believe these things about your opponents, civil conversation becomes impossible. If we want to make any progress at all, we must begin with the assumption that there must be some legitimate concerns behind the opposing view and try to understand what they are thinking before we critique them.

Let's start with the view that there should be a strict separation between church and state. For many people, this principle is the very one that makes our country great. Such persons will point out that for most of history and (still in many places in the world), people were discriminated against, exiled, and even executed simply for opposing the state-sponsored religion. This oppression has resulted in the suppression of science, divinely-sanctioned tyranny, and some of the bloodiest wars in world history. In response to this, the United States was designed to be a different kind of nation, one which would allow religious freedom. Thus, it is not insignificant that the very first line of the very first amendment says, "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof."

These same people point out that our government nevertheless supports an established religion in a number of ways. For example, our coins say, "In God We Trust," we pledge allegiance to a nation "under God," and we have a number of laws that only make sense in the context of Christianity. [E2] Thus, they see the vision of religious freedom one that has yet to be fulfilled, and they are committed to the ongoing task of making the government more true to its original principle.

On the other hand, there are people who argue that the complete separation of church is not only inadvisable; it is actually impossible. After all, governments are not morally neutral entities. We believe that governments, laws, and even constitutions can be just or unjust, moral or immoral. But this implies that there is a higher standard of justice or morality by which we can judge our laws. So, lurking in the background of our "political" discourse is a set of ethical convictions that are derived from religions. For example, when the colonists declared independence from England, they did so on the grounds that every individual is "endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights." Thus our entire political system is grounded in the religious claim that people have rights. [E3] And this is just one example. 

Some people argue that these religious and ethical instincts are the glue that hold us together. According to them, it is better to acknowledge that our moral compass was shaped by the Judeo-Christian tradition and to try to work within it than to pretend that we are amoral people, for in the process of so pretending, we may actually lose our moral compass. They too see our culture moving in a certain political direction, but they don't see this motion as progress. On the contrary, they think it leads to ethical, and ultimately political, anarchy.

I think there is something to be said about both of these arguments. [E4] Christians can find biblical support for either position. Some Christians believe that Scripture calls them to reform the government. [E5] They point to texts like 2 Chronicles 7:12-18, which underscores the need for nation-wide obedience to God. Other Christians believe that our religious life and political life should not be intermixed. They often cite Jesus' comment, "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's." (Luke 20:25) But there is a third option for Christians which largely goes unrecognized. This option both recognizes the importance both of aligning our political life with our religious convictions and of respecting religious freedom. How can both of these be possible? By seeing the Church as a distinct political entity, whose membership is completely voluntary.

According to this view, the Church does not work within the government or alongside of the government, but in contrast to the government. When its advocates say, "Jesus is Lord," they mean it not only cosmically (as in "Jesus ultimately holds power over everything that happens in the universe), not only personally (as in "Jesus is the Lord of my life,") but also and especially politically (as in "When Jesus came to earth, he established himself as humanity's true king and set up a kingdom of voluntary subjects whom we call Christians.") Notice, this view necessarily denies that the other "kingdoms" of the world are valid, which essentially puts it "at war" with them. [E6] This is, after all, why the Roman government had to kill Jesus. They were not wrong in identifying him as an insurrectionist. Although Jesus was a nonviolent person, he nevertheless denied the authority of the Roman government and started a counter-revolution who looked forward to an alternative "kingdom of God." This kingdom reigns with perfect justice because Jesus himself is its head, but it also respects religious freedom because it alone expands by voluntary membership. Or at least, that's the only way it should expand.

For many of you, this view will strike you as bizarre if not downright offensive. Still, I ask you to bare with me as I flesh it out in the next several posts, considering subjects like the social contract, property laws, and geographical boundary lines to defend this perspective.

End Notes

[E1] This actually does not split evenly into a Republican/Democrat debate anymore, or even as Evangelicals versus nonreligious people. On the contrary, many Evangelical Republicans are appealing to the separation of church and state to defend their practices (e.g. their "right" to discriminate against homosexuality) while Democrats are using more religious language to support their views and causes (e.g. helping the poor). Additionally, there are a number of Christians, even Evangelicals, who believe that their views should have no business in politics, as well as a number of non-Christians who agree that the principle of religious freedom can go too far and produce an unethical society. Nevertheless, this nuanced debate is perceived as a culture war between two sides, and as we shall see in later posts, perception plays a significant role  in shaping political realities.

[E2] For example, in Indiana, you cannot purchase alcohol on Sundays. This clearly derives from the Jewish and Christian concern to respect the Sabbath, and specifically the Christian interpretation that the Sabbath is Sunday. Nonbelievers are understandably frustrated that they are forced to honor this Christian holiday, which has no meaning for them.

[E3] Of course, it's debatable how "Christian" this view really is. Here, I am not making a theological claim that human rights are a theologically defensible concept but the genealogical claim that they can be traced back to a Christian heritage.

[E4] Of course, I represented these two options in their pure form, while in reality there are a number of people who stand somewhere in the middle.

[E5] This is coming from both Republicans and Democrats, just on separate issues.

[E6] The most helpful modern political concept that I can use to explain this is "recognition." In some places in the world, countries reject other countries' claims of authority by refusing to "recognize" them as legitimate. Unfortunately, this is not just a political insult. When one nation doesn't "recognize" another, it has profound "practical" effects. It gives the former nation the implicit right to commit whatever acts are necessary to bring those outlaws back in order, and it refuses to meet with the leadership of the opposing nation from compromise because such a meeting would seem to legitimize their authority. In a similar way, the claim "Jesus is Lord" refused to recognize the Caesars as Lord, and this is what got both Jesus and the early Christians in trouble.

The Philosophy of Jesus Christ

Today, I would like to do something rather unusual: to analyze Jesus as a philosopher. NOTE: I am not suggesting that Jesus was only a philosopher. I believe that Jesus is/was the Messiah, the King of Kings, the Word of God, the Second Person of the Trinity – all that good stuff. Nevertheless, I fear that these categories tend to separate Jesus’ person from his ministry, and so today, I will attempt to describe Jesus as a philosopher as a somewhat ironic corrective.

But first I need to explain what I mean by “philosophy.” Clearly, Jesus was not a philosopher by modern university standards. In the West, we have become accustomed to thinking of philosophy and religion as clearly distinct fields. Philosophy, it is assumed, asks a certain set of abstract questions on the basis of reason alone. We look to Socrates and Descartes as the founding fathers of this method: they refused to accept any claims that were based on authority or custom and instead sought truth through natural insights and empirical observations. [E1] Religion, by contrast, does not take reason as its starting point. Instead, it is grounded in experiences that “transcend” empirical evidence and point to the divine realm. At least, this is the way we distinguish religion and philosophy in the West. By this division, Jesus falls squarely into the “religion” category and has no business in philosophy.

However, there is an artificial division. Religion and philosophy cannot be so cleanly divided. If I offered a full critique here, I would get too far off track from the point of this entry. [E2] But suffice it to say that Socrates does not mark the beginning philosophy itself. [E3] Instead, he represents one philosophical tradition, one that found it valuable to assign religion and philosophy into different categories. No doubt, the “Western” tradition that runs from Plato and Aristotle, through Augustine and Aquinas, and into Descartes, Locke, and Kant, is a powerful one. It has led to incredible insights that have profoundly shaped our world. But there are also other philosophical traditions, of equal intellectual rigor, that do not treat religion and philosophy as separate subjects. [E4] In fact, most of the cultures of the world have bound religion and philosophy together because they are so clearly interrelated: both make claims about what life is all about and the best way to live it.

If we are going to speak about Jesus as a philosopher, then Judaism would be his philosophical tradition. This tradition taught that the universe was created by one God, who is sovereign over it and who gave humanity a special place within it. It also maintained that God had made a special covenant with the Jewish people, where they would live as the ideal human community, under the guidance of the laws that God gave Moses, in exchange for God’s favor and blessing. These are all things that Jesus inherited from the Jewish tradition and that his followers should also embrace. We worship one God with all of our hearts, souls, minds and strength, alongside of Jews and Muslims (although there are admittedly some differences in how God is understood).

However, just like any other philosophical tradition, there was plenty of room for innovation and disagreement within Judaism. Rather than using the term “philosophers,” the competing schools of thought were led by “rabbis,” who took different interpretive approaches to this tradition. Although this often took the form of debate over Scripture, they were not simply “Biblical scholars” in the modern meaning of the term. No, their various interpretations represented different life philosophies, which had implications for ethics, metaphysics, epistemology, politics – everything a Western philosopher would find interesting.

Consequently, Jesus shared much in common with his Jewish contemporaries, as they shared the same philosophical tradition. He frequently criticized them, but these criticisms should be understood as correctives in an internal debate. For example, Jesus agreed with the Pharisees on more subjects than he disagreed with them about, including their high view of Scripture, their commitment to a high ethical standard, and their belief in the resurrection. [E4] But he did have one major view that made him stand out from his contemporaries; there was one dimension to his life-philosophy that was so powerful that it eventually created a separate religion. It is best represented in Mark 10:42-45 [E5]:

“You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

This is the philosophy of Jesus Christ. It is his distinctive teaching, which sets him apart from every other "philosopher" in the world. It has ethical, metaphysical, and political implications, but at its core, it is about human relationships. [E6] In it, Jesus observes that most societies are structured by power. We “survive” in this world by appealing to our physical, economic, and legal strength to defend ourselves from others. At the broadest level, governments “lord over” enemies by raising armies and developing police forces. At a business level, consumers “lord over” businesses by maintaining the right to sue them, and employers “lord over” employees by maintain the right to fire them. Even at a personal level, friends and family members “lord over” one another by keeping track of favors, threatening to withhold support, yelling or being physically or emotionally intimidating. All of these are manifestations of what Jesus calls “lording it over” others. Radically, he demands his disciples never to do this: not as family members, employers/employees, citizens, or anything at all. They were called to a different way of life.  

Instead, Jesus inaugurated a “life philosophy” where people relate to one another as voluntary servants [E7]. When feeling powerless, Jesus’ followers are not supposed to appeal to their rights or threaten others with their power (however great or small it might be), but to confront their opponents with truth and love. Rather than trying to “change the world” by coercing others into cooperation, Jesus’ followers are called to live righteously even without the world’s cooperation and to trust that their lives will persuade some others to join them on their quest. Rather than embracing the hierarchies of the world, Jesus’ followers would live in mutual service, mutual accountability, and mutual care for one another, thereby creating a community unlike one the world had ever seen. Of course, not everyone who claimed Christianity has lived up to this vision – in fact, the vast majority of Christians haven’t – but I believe that being a follower of Jesus ultimately means trying to live by this philosophy.

End Notes

[E1] Often times, we trace the trajectory of “ancient philosophy” to Socrates and “modern philosophy” to Descartes. Of course, neither of these thinkers wrote in a vacuum. Both already inherited philosophical traditions that shaped the way they thought. On the other hand, both offered new methodological approaches to philosophy which were influential in their respective periods.

[E2] Nevertheless, here are some preliminary thoughts to offer a sense of what might be wrong with the faith/reason or religion/philosophy divide:

#1 – This way of distinguishing religion and philosophy places all the “great” philosophers in the Greco-Roman-Christian tradition. In other words, it seems to imply that every great thinker was a white man, which is racist, sexist, and false. This problem is mitigated when you see Plato, Aristotle, Kant, and others as participants in one philosophical tradition and you realize that in that particular tradition, white men had greater access to it than other people. However, in other philosophical traditions, we have equally brilliant insights from people of all backgrounds.

#2 – Postmodernism may be a crude term, but it nevertheless offers a valid critique to modern philosophy. It represents the internal discovery that philosophy could not proceed “by reason alone,” but that whenever it was making assumptions that were not rationally founded all along, many of which it inherited from religious traditions.

#3 – I don’t like the view of “religion” that grounds it in “transcendence” or “religious experiences.” Obviously, God is transcendent, but my faith is based on the concrete person of Jesus of Nazareth, who revealed the nature of God in his person, lifestyle, and teaching. Everything I believe about God can be traced back to him; this does not nullify religious experiences but it makes them an insufficient epistemic foundation for religious belief. This is one of the many reasons I am at home in the Mennonite tradition: Mennonites aren’t inclined to embrace “mystical” views of communion or conversion that appeal to mystery and personal experience. I would also add Scripture to the list of items that could stand to be demystified (but not demythologized).

[E3] Nor does Pythagoras or Thales or whomever historians might choose to identify as the founder of the Greek philosophical tradition. The search for a person who could be identified as “the founder of philosophy” is as hopeless as the search for “the founder of religion”.

[E4] To list just a few examples, consider Taoism, Jainism, Confucianism, Shinto, Bantu, and Buddhism. It’s really just the Abrahamic faiths that have come to embrace the “modern” division of faith/reason or religion/philosophy. And there are significant voices in each of these traditions that reject it.

[E5] Because of the significant overlap between the followers of Jesus and the Pharisees, Paul was able to avoid punishment by the Sanhedrin by claiming that he was being persecuted for being a Pharisee, e.g. for believing in the resurrection (see Acts 23:1-10). See also Matthew 5:20 and John 3 (especially verses 1 and 10) as further evidence that Jesus shared more in common with the Pharisees than we typically think.

[E6] This passage is also quoted in Matthew 20:25-28 and Luke 22:25-27. The same idea is conveyed symbolically in the gospel of John when Jesus washes his disciples’ feet (John 13:2-17). Paul teaches it as the “philosophy” of Jesus in Philippians 2:1-11, Peter represents it at the crux of his letter in 1 Peter 3:8-18, and James makes it clear through a number of instructions that he is on the exact same page, such as 1:19-20, 3:17-18, and 4:7-10. I mention all these passages to make it clear that this is not just a peripheral comment that Jesus makes in the gospels. It is central to Jesus’ teaching and to what it means to be a Christian.

[E7] Again, I do not have time to detail the ethical, metaphysical, and political dimensions of this text now, but here is a small sample to open the doors for developing thought:

Ethically, not lording over others entails never threatening others with any kind of physical, economic, or emotional retaliation when they hurt or threaten us. It puts us in the uncomfortable posture of having to “turn the other cheek” quite often, and of always being prepared to forgive the repentant.

Metaphysically, this philosophy is based on the fact that “even the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve.” In other words, this is the way that God functions. This would mean that the universe is not actually governed by the threat of death, but that there is a power which is greater than death, which can overcome death. One should not underestimate how profoundly our views of the “nature of the universe” impact our everyday decisions, and most of us assume that the universe is a fundamentally violent place, which means that the only way to survive in it is to fight.

Politically, this means that Christians cannot appeal to legal power as a way of trying to coerce others. Even though we can respect and work with “the governing authorities,” we recognize Jesus as the true king of the universe and his nonviolent love as the only source of real power. This means we should be suspicious of everything from voting to participating in the military, for as noble as they may be, they all assume that we must lord our power over others to survive.

[E8] The voluntary dimension of this participation is crucial, and it happens to be one of the distinctive values of the Anabaptist-Mennonite tradition. Historically, Christians have abused many people by trying to subject them to this servant-like status without embracing it themselves. This issue must be discussed in greater detail later.