It is that time again.
The trees are going up in homes, chrismons and wreaths are going up in naves, department store caroling makes more sense than it did a week a go and parishioners are pressuring pastors to sing Christmas hymns during Advent.
It is time for Christmas. And what does that mean? That we celebrate the birth of Emmanuel and the promise of peace on earth by demonstrating the love and grace of God for every one of God's children? Yeah, right!
The secular season of Christmas (what the church calls Advent) is no longer a season of personal and communal preparation for the fulfilling of one of the greatest promises ever made. It is a season for doing the things God really intends; shopping, consuming, emotional pressure, spiritual neglect, hysteria and declarations about how "the liberals" are trying to steal Christmas.
It is time for the WAR ON CHRISTMAS! Make no mistake about it, this is war, people. Fox News even has a graphic and intro music. Only real wars get those. Across this great nation falsely believed to have been founded on Christian principles (slavery anyone?), liberals are infiltrating school boards and city councils to perpetuate their demonic plot to force all of us to say "Happy Holidays" rather than "Merry Christmas."
How dare they? Do they not realize that the salvation won in the life, death and resurrection in Christ depends on forcing four year old Jewish kids to sing "O, Little Town of Bethlehem?" Do they not understand that the nativity scene representing the romanticized scene at Christ's birth (yeah, Mary was showered and dressed that soon after labor) must be displayed in a classroom where Buddhist students are forced to contemplate the birth of Messiah even though there no messianic figure waiting to be born in Buddhism? Do they not realize that he coming of the kingdom of God depends fully on using the language of the Christian faith to make people feel uncomfortable and defensive?
Thankfully for the sake of the Kingdom and for we in the church, Field Marshall Bill "bats#!t" O'Riley and General Sarah "can't hold down a job for 24 consecutive months before I quit or get fired" Palin are on it. In an interview on Fox, Palin was taped saying that she "loves the commercialization" of Christmas because it spread the Christmas cheer so wide. Bill O'Riley was there to call out Macy's on daring to turn the laundry list of stuff that kids give the guy at the mall a "Holiday Wish List" rather than a "Christmas Wish List." How dare they fail to realize the spiritual importance of giving a list of demands to a stranger dressed in a red suit playing a modern adaptation of an ancient European pagan diety?
After spending some time this morning listening to these brave defenders of the faith-in-Christmas-stuff, I have decided that I am going to lay down my sword and surrender this particular war on Christmas. Liberals, you won this one.
I am laying down my sword and will no longer defend the rights of every person to be forced to sing the songs of my faith.
I am laying down my sword and will no longer defend the principle of consumerism as the purest form of faithfulness.
I am laying down my sword and will no longer defend the principle that my freedom of religion is not about personal devotional practice but about my God given right to make others feel ostracized and excluded because they do not share my faith.
I am laying down my sword and surrendering in this War on Christmas.
Now, perhaps, I can get back to that whole "season of expectation and anticipation of the miracle of the birth of God in the world" stuff. This year, I guess the birth of Christ will just have to suffice.
Theology in Public
A Presbyterian pastor's thoughts about what it means to live a life of faith in the world today.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Race and Confession
The verdict in the Trayvon Martin case on the heels of the
Supreme Court’s gutting of the Voting Rights Act has brought our shared
national legacy of racial division back to the foreground of our political
debates. Now, while the iron is hot, is the
time for theological conversation to strike on this enduring and complicated
issue.
Beyond the political rhetoric of the day, what can the church
say theologically about the legacy of racial division in American culture?
Besides simply saying “racism is sin” (which we should keep
saying), what can the church say on the topic of race to move our conversation
and our shared life forward?
As I began trying to formulate an answer to that question, I
found myself walking around and around answers and ideas but never getting far
beneath the surface. The first draft of
this post was little more than a string of platitudes and bumper-sticker slogans
on ending racism. Rev. Jim Forbes,
former pastor at Riverside Church in NYC, once referred to that sort of
theology as “hoop skirt theology,”- it covers everything but touches nothing.
Why, I began to wonder, am I not able to really go deep into
a theology of anti-racism? Why do I have
so much trouble thinking and writing beyond the platitudes? I ruminated on those questions for a couple
of weeks until it dawned on me. There is
a very simple reason why I have such difficulty talking deeply and formatively
on the subject of race.
I am a racist.
That is my confession.
I am a racist.
I fully realize how loaded that sentence is, but words are important and sometimes we have to call things like they are and not hedge our bets or soften our words. I define racism here not in terms of superiority of one group over another but as the persistent habit of seeing difference in other people before anything else.
I am not a KKK banner waving racist like David Duke or a
hate spewing racist like the pastor in Florida who keeps burning the Koran or
even a passive aggressive racist like half of the United States Congress. My racism is less cartoonish and frankly more
troubling. Now, I want to be clear at
this point and say that I do not set out to be a racist. In fact, I like to think of myself as being
pretty sensitive to the subject. I
cannot conceive of actively discriminating against another person for just
about any reason. Mine is not overt
hate-racism. Mine is that insidious form
of silent American racism that goes unnoticed and, like a lurking malignancy,
undiagnosed for years until it eats you away from the inside. It is the kind of racism that is unintentional but no less harmful. That is my sin. (Well one of them anyway)
We like to behave as though racism is just hate. To be sure, in its most insidious and often violent form it is. But racism is not reserved to the hatemongers and those who promote a politics of fear of the other. Sometimes it is silent. And silent racism in America is too easily and too often ignored.
This kind of American racism is not rooted in hate but in a
focus on the otherness of a person of a different race. For example, I do not dislike or disrespect
the President because he is an African-American. (In fact, I still have the bottle of wine my
mother and I used to toast his election in 2008 and I am proud that our nation
elected its first African-American President.)
But when I see him on television or in the newspaper, I see a black man
before I see a President. I see what is
different about him before I see anything else.
(I have to confess feeling a little indicted by the President when he
pointed to just that sort of racism in his impromptu speech in late July.)
The lingering liberal in me wants to say, “Well, difference
is good. Difference is diversity.” And I
suppose that is true on some level. It
is our differences that give definition and depth to our diversity and that is
a good thing. However, before diversity
can really be appreciated, we have to learn to define it in terms of our
commonality. We are diverse to be sure,
however we are diverse within a shared humanity.
Yet our shared humanity is rarely the first thing we
see. We see race, gender identity, age,
physical capability and all manner of physical differences before we see what it is we share- our humanity. Silent American racism (and its partners
sexism, homophobia, ageism and others) is the habitual and uncritical
willingness to see the difference in another person before seeing our shared
humanity if we see it at all.
In her wonderful book From
Disgust to Humanity, philosopher Martha Nussbaum calls American culture out
on our habitual pattern of creating boogeymen out of whole groups of people. Although Nussbaum focuses on GLBTQ
discrimination, her argument applies to the problem of silent racism as
well. Even silent racism creates
categories of people based on assumed differences that categorize those people
as “not like me.” We create an image that gives us permission to treat that
group and any member of it as other; as less than. (It
was fascinating how many times stories about Trayvon Martin that characterized
him as a young black male wearing a hoodie with pot in his system were followed
immediately with a picture of the President.) Nussbaum advocates for a “politics
of humanity” that resists this silent form of discrimination in favor of a
political culture rooted in our common humanity.
What Nussbaum advocates for in the political sphere, the
church must advocate in the theological.
Don’t we claim that we are ALL children of God? What greater witness can we make to the unity
we have in Christ than creating a culture that focuses first on our shared
humanity? Our shared created-ness in the
image of God? Before anything else, we are all children of
the Living God. Transcending any
possible division or category we might impose, we are all one in God’s family.
There is holiness in that message. There is holiness in proclaiming the love, hope
and unity of Jesus Christ. There is
holiness in declaring that before anything in the world that might seek to
divide us, we are united in the eyes of God; each of us wonderfully made and
precious in God’s sight. What a daring
and faithful message that would be in the world! What a bold church we would be if we only had
the courage to proclaim it!
Dr. King called Sunday morning worship the most segregated
hour in the week. It was true when he
said it nearly half a century ago and it is true today. Even the church is not immune to silent
racism. We have a long way to go to
become the people God desires us to be and a long way to go to become a
community of common humanity bearing witness to the world.
In the meantime, there is grace. Amazing grace for those of us who still have a
way to go; who still have some work to do in the journey from difference to
humanity.
Racism has been called “America’s original sin” and it is
going to take time for us to overcome it, however just because it is difficult
does not mean that we do not try.
They say the first step is admitting you have a problem.
No more silence; that is the first step.
Anyone ready to take it with me?
Monday, July 1, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Abortion Politics and Genesis
The link below is to my sermon blog. It is another foray into the troubling waters of our public debate on abortion.
For All the Dinahs Today
For All the Dinahs Today
Friday, December 14, 2012
A Price too High
20 children are dead.
As the news of yet another mass shooting emerged today from
Connecticut, commentators, politicians and pundits began posing the questions
asked after events such as this. When is
it appropriate to debate gun violence?
How long after a tragedy do we need to wait before “politicizing” the
shootings? Essentially, they lead us in
a debate about the debate.
I have another question to pose.
When in the midst of
this ongoing orgy of gun violence will we as a society decide that too many
children are dying for the sake of a “right to bear arms?”
That is the question that faces us and it is a question that cannot wait. The old saying that there is "no time like the present" rings painfully true. We owe it to the next victims of gun violence to take this moment and ask, "is this worth it?"
Beyond all the grand and abstract language of liberty and
rights, there is a fundamental reality that is being ignored. 20 grade school children are dead because searing
pieces of metal fired from a gun tore through their bodies and robbed them of
their futures. Their deaths and their
families’ grief are not abstract. They are not merely a piece in a larger
conversation on guns and violence. Their
deaths are the price tag for preserving a culture of absolute liberty in gun
possession.
As with so many unspeakable tragedies, our first inclination
is to seek some measure of understanding.
We want to find out what in this young man’s life and spirit led him to
do this. We want to get to the bottom of
this event so we can put our minds at ease that this was somehow and unusual or
one-off event distinguished from any potential imitation.
Compounding the tragedy is how familiar it has become. Movie theaters, malls, places of worship and
now even elementary schools are not excused from the bloodshed of gun
violence. As the tragedy unfolds, we
share in a common sense of shock and sadness, let the media paint a picture of
the “lone gunman” that allows us to differentiate him from anyone else we may
encounter and finally, we get past it.
Still, 20 children are dead.
We as a culture must break this endless cycle of
tragedy-shock-blame-moving on. We must
draw a line in the sand and say, “no more.”
We, as a nation and as a church, must not let this moment pass us by.
Unfortunately both church and state are too often
silent. The vacuum of courage in our
political culture is not an excuse for the silence of the church. If we wait for Republicans to break free the
shackles of the NRA or the Democrats to find what is left of their courage on
this issue, we wait for Godot.
As disciples of Jesus Christ, the church has an obligation
to carry the message and the witness of Jesus Christ into the world. While there may be room for debate on some
parts of Jesus’ teachings on money or marriage or salvation, there can be no
debate about Jesus’ unflinching love and care for children.
We fail in our calling as Christians if we do not shout,
from every pulpit and pew, that this must end.
God is concerned more with the
care and nurture of the children of God than the preservation and exercise of
man-made political rights. If the price
we pay to end the cycle of violence that can and has led to the mass killing of
children is to give up the unfettered right to own and carry guns, then that is
the price we pay. Can true liberty be
built on the senseless sacrifice of children?
When Abraham took Isaac up onto the mountain, God stayed Abraham’s
hand demonstrating once and for all that the blood of a child is too high a
price to pay, even for the favor of God.
We, the church, must have the courage to stand up and stay the hand of
the culture and declare that nothing that is right, good or free can be bought
with the life of a child.
That is a cost that is simply too high.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Can Drone Warfare Be Just?
In the third presidential debate, President Obama and
Governor Romney found common ground on a few issues of foreign policy. One case in particular, the use of drone
attacks on terror suspects, stands out because Governor Romney stated simply
that he agrees with the President’s policy.
Some commentators have latched on to that to show how conservative the
President is on national security or how Governor Romney is more moderate than
some of his advisers Beneath it all,
the question is not one of liberal/moderate/conservative. It is a question of right or wrong.
Drone attacks are, by any reasonable measure, theologically
and morally wrong.
Drones, the unmanned aerial vehicle
or UAV, are a creation of the intelligence community and have become the front
line troops in the seemingly endless “war on terror.” Drones are designed to be
precise (though they have proven not to be), to be secure (though their
security has been called into serious question) and a means of winning the war
on terror (though there is no end in sight).
In truth, drones are the modern
equivalent of a societal prefrontal lobotomy about war. By removing the “human element” and replacing
it with non-emotional machines freed from the constraints of moral cognizance,
we have moved war from the realm of human tragedy to one of rationalized and
sterilized policy-making. It is far
easier to send a machine, more of which can easily be made, into war than it is
to risk the lives of our sons and daughters.
And to be fair, drones do limit the exposure and risk to our military
and civilian personnel. The trouble is
that as advanced and celebrated as they are, drones do not always work. In fact they often do not work. Some investigations claim that up to 25% of
drone related deaths are accidental.
Still, if they limit the exposure of
Americans and limit the extent of the war zones in Pakistan and Afghanistan,
don’t the advantages outweigh the drawbacks?
In other words, in the messy reality of war, aren’t drones at least a
little more moral?
If the only gauge of morality in war
was protection of “our side,” they certainly would be. However, under the principles of nearly 1600
years of Christian Just War theory, drones are, in fact, a less moral way of
waging war.
Just War theory can generally be
divided into two categories: jus ad
bellum (reasons to go to war) and jus
in bello (behavior in war). Since
the argument about going to war has long since been made irrelevant in the
present war, our attention is best directed to jus in bello. How, having
gone to war, must nations and people behave in war?
The general theory of jus ad bello lists five general
categories of behavior morally regulated by just war theory: distinction (distinguishing
civilians from combatants), proportionality (an act of war must not be
disproportionate to the precipitating act), military necessity (the act must be
necessary to defeat the enemy and end the conflict), fair treatment of
prisoners and the use of no means malum
in se (no means that are evil/immoral in and of themselves or the effects
of which cannot be controlled once used).[i]
The use of unmanned drones violates
at least three of these principles.
·
Distinction: The evidence is clear that drone attacks kill
civilians. Drones are neither limited
enough in their power nor precise enough in their guidance to ensure that only the
target is killed. While studies have
claimed that up to 25% of drones miss their targets and kill unintended
civilian populations, civilians are often the victims of successful drone
attacks. In 2011 a drone hit a tribal
council meeting in the Northwest Frontier Province of Pakistan. The four terrorist targets were killed, but
so were 38 others. Nearly 90% of those killed in the attack were not targets
but by-standers.
Another issue of
proportionality concerns the targets themselves. Often drone attacks target “terror suspects.”
They are executions carried out on suspects of terrorism rather than those
proven to have committed acts of terror.
There is no question that global terror is vastly different than a war
of opposing armies. The question for us
as a culture is whether or not that reality will so radically change the
metrics of our moral vision. We think
this person is a terrorist so we will kill him and his neighbors just in case
seems less than ideal as a moral foundation.
·
No Means Malum in Se: It is an overstatement
to say that drones are evil in and of themselves the way mass rape, child
conscription or the use of weapons of mass destruction are. Nonetheless, because they are free from the
moral difficulty of directly causing the death of another, drones are innately free
from moral inhibition and decision making.
Making war easier and less costly to wage has a coarsening effect on the
society fighting the war. Anything that
makes the commission of sin easier cannot, by definition, be anything but less
moral.
Do drone attacks make the “war on
terror” immoral? Is President Obama evil
for pursuing a policy of drone warfare?
Is Governor Romney evil for agreeing with him? Are the men and women who direct the drone
attacks evil for participating in such an immoral system? These and other questions that continue to
explore the morality of our current national security policies are (or at least
should be) of great concern to the church and people of faith.
Any war waged for any reason has dehumanizes and violates the most basic principle of Christian love. As 2000 years of history has taught us, though the community of Christ exists in the world the perfect peace of Christ does not yet. Just War theory has been an effective,
if imperfect, check on our propensity for war.
Restraint in war is one of the most enduring theological and
philosophical legacies of Christendom. If
we, as a community of faith, will not stand up for our own historic principles,
who is left?
There is no war that is free from
sin. There is only the degree to which
we submit to it. The larger question of
the morality of the “war on terror” will likely occupy the church for a
generation. The morality of drone
warfare should not.
[i] A
reasonable argument could be made that drones violate all five areas of Just
War theory concerning conduct in warfare.
Prisoners are mistreated in the fact that they are never taken prisoner
nor given the opportunity to surrender themselves. That drone attacks have been used since 2004
without great effect could reasonably argued as a violation of the principle of
military necessity. These are hardly
clear and reasonable arguments can be made on the other side of each. The same cannot be said for the other three
principles outlined above.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Would You Baptize Exxon?
In 2010 the Supreme Court decided a case popularly called Citizens United. In a nutshell, it says that individuals, corporations and unions can spend unlimited amounts of money to elect or defeat a candidate for office as long as it is not coordinated by the candidate. (Much of the nonsense of this election season is brought to you by the Supreme Court of the United States.) Enough ink has been spilled on whether or not Citizens United was a good decision (I think not). I want to address an underlying issue raised by the ruling.
Part of the logic in Citizens United is that corporations are, for the purposes of speech in elections, persons and afforded the same protections of speech that an individual person is. Corporations are persons? What makes a person a person is a matter of deep philosophical debate. From a theological perspective, the answer is no easier. What makes a person a person?
When I was in seminary, this question came up in the context of a discussion about baptism. In my tradition we practice infant baptism rather than adult or "believer's" baptism. Underlying the theology of infant baptism is the notion that baptism is an act of faithfulness by the church in response to the faithfulness of God. The sacrament does not require any belief or comprehension on the part of the baptized as it does in "believer's" baptism. The question came up concerning whether or not it is appropriate to baptize an individual who cannot comprehend the sacrament. As someone who believes in infant baptism, the answer to that question is easy. For others it is not.
The court and much of the political community argue that corporations are persons. So my question is this, would you baptize Exxon?
Calling corporations people demeans what it is to be a person. People, homo sapiens, are created in the image of God. Whatever race, nationality, physical or mental disability or other characteristic or station in life, we are all created in the image of God. But is Wal-Mart or the AFL-CIO or even a non-profit like the United Way? Are these "persons" created in the image of God?
I realize that baptism is not a universal measuring stick to determine person-hood. You can be unbaptized and still be human (a child of God). It is, however, a helpful way of thinking about who and what might reasonably be included in the category of "person."
As a man of faith, I believe that calling corporations "persons" both misunderstands what it means to be human and demeans the person-hood of every one of God's children. You and I are made in the image of God, wonderfully made in fact and held in the heart of God since the beginning of time. I simply cannot believe that the same can be said of Best Buy or BP or even the Nature Conservancy.
I am not anti-corporation. I am against some of the abuses corporations commit and some of the dehumanizing policies of some corporations. On the whole, however, I have no moral objection to corporations as such. I just cannot get behind the idea that a corporation deserves the same consideration and rights as a child of God.
Whether Citizens United is good policy or good law is left to be decided.
That it is theologically troubling is clear.
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