to tell the truth - new blogging venture (sort of)

So as you all may remember, sometime in the last two months I began to become unsatisfied with the direction that this blog was going.  To make a long story short, I felt that the name of the blog didn’t match the content and quite frankly I was just burned out on blogging.  All that is to say that I’ve spent some time thinking through what really interests me and what I’d really like to write about and I’m ready to unveil my new blog: truth to tell.

As I say in the first post,

“Truth to tell” comes from the title of a book by one of my favorite thinkers, Lesslie Newbigin: Truth to Tell: The Gospel as Public Truth. My choosing of “Truth to tell” as a title for this blog is based on Newbigin’s conviction (which I share) that the Church of Jesus Christ (in all its various expressions) must be about the business of speaking truth to the world. The truth which the church offers, however, is not some cold, arrogant, unchanging truth but, rather, a truth that must “wrap the whole world in the Father’s love.” I want to use this blog to facilitate discussion that will allow us to explore this Truth together.

It’s that simple.  Now I know what you’re thinking - why start something new for that?  Well, sometimes you just need a break and a new start.  So that’s what this is.  I hope you’ll read my new blog and become part of the conversation there.  Be looking for about a post a week (maybe more, maybe less) and don’t be too shy to interact.  As I say in the final paragraph,

Finally, If there’s anything on this site that interests you, please talk about it - either on here or to your friends. Ultimately, I think that friendship is the end (telos) of the Christian life. Christians are called in various ways to learn the meaning of friendship - with God and with one another. The things I write about in this space are meant to encourage such friendship. If anything you read here is disingenuous, mean-spirited, or generally harmful to the cultivation of Holy Friendships, please feel free to call me out on it. After all, friends tell each other the truth - and that’s what this blog is all about.

Why I’m Boycotting the RED Campaign

So I’ve heard a great deal about about this new “socially conscious” consumer venture called the RED Campaign. I have friends who have bought the products and so this post is not meant to trivialize or demean their sense of justice or charity. I simply want to point out a few reasons why I’m boycotting the RED Campaign.

First, the percentage of funds that is actually directed to Bono’s charitable organization, the Global Fund, is relatively small. For example, the RED iPod nano, which sells for $199 dollars, brings a donation of $10. That’s a 5% donation. Another example is that of the RED American Express Card to be released in the UK this Fall. Roughly 1.25% of all purchases made with the card will be directed to the global fund. That means for the purchase of a $200 watch, $2.50 will automatically go to the Global Fund. With amounts as small as these, I wonder if the RED campaign is even worth all the hype. Certainly small amounts of money given to fight poverty and aids in Africa is better than no money at all, but many critics of the RED campaign cite Lack of transparency on the part of ad agencies, the Global Fund and all of the companies involved in the campaign as their primary impetus for disavowal of the cause. Another part of the problem that I have with the RED campaign’s shallow funding of actual, concrete efforts to fight AIDS and poverty is that the amount of money spent in advertising is astronomical compared to the amount reportedly directed to the Global Fund. Various sources from the NY Times to the Christian Science Monitor cite advertising funds ranging from 90 to 150 million dollars spent on advertising and a mere 15 to 25 million actually directed to the Global Fund. The fact that the figures are so hard to come by and contested by such reputable and various sources throws up an immediate (RED) flag that something isn’t right with this campaign. Certainly 25 million dollars is much more than I could ever afford to give but if the money comes from companies such as the Gap and Converse whose ethical manufacturing practices have been called into question and constantly criticized by organizations such as Sweat-Shop Watch and Human Rights Watch then I wonder whether it might simply be more beneficial to simply hand over $500 dollars a year to the Global Fund (or some other more transparent charity organization)? The issue of private charity prompted by consumeristic advertising and the incessant need of most Americans to constantly shop for more stuff brings me to the next reason that I am boycotting the RED Campaign.

The RED Campaign teaches us that our primary purpose in life is to consume. I must confess that I do not live in poverty. I own a new car, a couple of computers, numerous guitars, and many other luxuries that people throughout the world do not have. I write from the perspective of someone who will probably always live a middle-class lifestyle (that is unless the American government continues to widen the gap between the poor and the wealthy - but that’s another post). I also do not feel ashamed that I am not poor. Certainly there is widespread contempt heaped upon the wealthy by those who champion the rights and well-being of the poor. I am not writing to heap indignation and contempt upon the wealthy but to question the morality of a campaign to aid women and children suffering from aids in impoverished areas of African nations that relies on extreme American consumerism and greed to achieve its aims. The second, and primary, reason that I am boycotting the RED Campaign is that it takes for granted to idolatrous assumption that the primary purpose of human life is to consume. I have a bumper sticker on the back of my car from ConsistentLife.org that reads, “Respect all Life. Practice Nonviolence.” I was challenged the other day by a friend of mine who asked me point-blank if the reason that I placed this sticker on my car was that I wanted to feel good about myself. I had to concede that yes, a part of the reason was that having a “social justice” bumper sticker on my car for all to see makes me feel better - like I’m making a difference. I have other reasons, but this is one of them. I thought about his question and I have debated ever since whether or not I should remove the sticker. After all, it takes more than a bumper sticker to live a life of nonviolence and I wonder whether, given the warm fuzzy feeling I get by “doing good,” if this sticker isn’t a bad thing for me. Does my self-righteousness “fit” the cause I am advocating? In the same way, does the blatant consumerism and greed fostered and fueled by the RED Campaign “fit” the cause of global poverty and AIDS relief? Does telling already overly-wealthy, obese, oil dependent, middle-to-upper class white Americans to shop more (even if part of the money goes to help someone else) a good idea? In a world where few people question the morality of driving vehicles that are both terribly inefficient and pridefully huge or buying clothing that was made by an impoverished child in a country far-far away, is it really a good idea to feed the egos of frenzied consumers by telling them that if they just spend more money, they might make a difference in the life of some person they’ll never meet?

These are just the two primary reasons that I have decided to boycott the RED Campaign (aside from the obvious reason that I can’t even afford most of the products to begin with). Overall, I wonder about whether it is right or safe to funnel charitable giving to important causes through the global consumer culture machine. I have perused the RED Campaign’s website and it is all very streamlined and “laid out” in such a way that it seems reputable (and maybe it is). But I am troubled by the apparent gap between the amount of money spent on advertising and the actual amount given to the Global Fund - not to mention the overt profit garnered by companies such as the Gap and Converse who have a reputation for overt human rights abuses throughout the world. Further, I am troubled by the encouragement of (to be candid) buying more useless crap in order to serve others. I recall Norman Wirzba and Wendell Berry’s quote from my previous post that says, “Service is the art of the commonplace, the art that willingly enters into life with others and the earth and seeks the flourishing of all. The labor of art, which here stands in contrast with the reductive, instrumental tendencies implicit in the desire to explain and control, seeks to expand our vision and make it more faithful to the mystery of grace that comprehends and sustains all.” The RED Campaign, simply because it encourages unrestrained consumption of things that we do not need - often, because of sweatshops and unethical corporate practices, at the expense of others people and the earth, is the opposite of service. I believe that the RED Campaign is a lie that is meant simply to help multi-national corporations earn more and more money at the expense of others. Further, I wonder if, instead of buying more, shopping more, killing ourselves slowly with more soulless consumption of useless junk, it wouldn’t be more beneficial to simply write a check to the global fund or take time off from work to actually visit and serve those who suffer in poverty and in the grip of AIDS and the many other diseases that degrade humanity. If service involves the willing entering into life with others (the messy, hard, reality of life) then the RED Campaign is war not service. By encouraging people to “give” to charity by simply doing what they already do are we teaching service or are we encouraging a passive, unengaged, disconnected, pseudo-life that can never know the true meaning of service or sacrifice. Just a thought.

Subverting Alienation: Baptism as Mortal Combat

SacramentThere are few practices that are more important to Christians than Baptism. That this is a formative ritual undertaken by communities of faithful believers in the risen Christ is a conviction shared by both Thomas Finger and Rodney Clapp. In this section, therefore, we will address the problem of alienation by turning to the importance of the (mostly) universally recognized baptismal initiation rite. We will begin this section with a discussion the way that Finger, as an Anabaptist Christian views the Christian community. Following this brief survey, we will investigate Finger’s distinctively Anabaptist view of the baptismal sacrament and how it can function in a world with many differing perspectives and beliefs. Finally, with the help of Rodney Clapp, we will examine the ways that baptism can form Christian individuals into people who are equipped to combat alienation in their own lives, with respect to the environment, and as people who (as Christians) live and thrive in community.

Historically speaking, Anabaptists have been a deeply communal people. Indeed, “the content and orientation of Anabaptist faith are largely communal.” As with many other Free Church Christians, Finger believes that Anabaptist faith has the risen Christ as its primary object and that faith in Christ “is hardly individualistic, even though it is deeply personal. Turning to Christ is inseparable from turning to his community and participating in its corporate walk in his life, death and resurrection.” This feature of the centrality of the gathered community for Christian faith is certainly distinctive among Free Church Christians today. However, with so much stress laid upon the “acceptance” of Jesus Christ as one’s “personal Lord and Savior” within Baptist circles, this is a feature of Anabaptist faith that is difficult for many in that branch of the tradition to stomach. Although, for Finger, the Christian community is made up of those who have made a personal, hopefully adult, decision to join the community in its life and work. In addition, and possibly in contrast to many other Anabaptist Christians, Finger views the church as “deeply sacramental” even to the extent of the church itself being a sacrament. He writes,

Anabaptist communities are deeply sacramental…Historic Anabaptists envisioned the church itself much as a sacrament. Since this church heralds the new creation’s fullness, Anabaptists can call it…an eschatological sacrament: a visible, present sign of what God finally desires for all humanity…Sacramentality implies the basic goodness of matter-energy, including human bodies (contra many historic Anabaptists), however distorted by sin.

In this we catch a glimpse of the way that the church as sacrament can, through the power of the spirit, become an agent for reconciliation in spite of, and possible in the face of, great alienation. This can happen as a result of the fact that “this sacramentality is expressed most comprehensively as members disciple each other according to Jesus’ pattern, which includes sharing possessions.” He continues, “Discipling is a corporate journey within God’s overall reconciling mission toward increasingly Christlike character, which includes patience and moral perfection.” Therefore, what we find in Finger’s view of the Christian community is a deeply sacramental, discipling group of individually 0committed Christian that are empowered and enlivened by the Holy Spirit to be a witness to the world. This witness is often embodied in the individual sacramental acts of the church. These “ritual symbolic expressions (esp. baptism and the Supper) and behavioral expressions (esp. discipling and sharing) are essential to the new creation’s communal sacramentality.” It is at this point, with a glimpse of this holistic community that is inclusive of both “churchly” rituals (i.e. baptism and Eucharist) as well as deeply personal acts of devotion (foot washing and economic sharing), that we may turn to speak of the former as the means through which the Christian community can be a conduit for fighting contemporary alienation in the lives of its members.

Rodney ClappIn his section on the communal dimension of the Christian life, Thomas Finger provides a thorough working of the Anabaptist perspective regarding both baptism and the Lord’s Supper. I have chosen to focus on baptism simply because of its primary function in most Christian bodies within the church catholic. As the “sole initiatory sacrament,” a focus on baptism, apart from the obvious need to preserve writing space, is a logical point of focus for in it we will be able to gain an understanding of the ways in which our commitments to become disciples of Jesus in our baptism can be modes of combat against current alienation. In addition, as will be evident soon enough, a baptismal focus is primary because Finger is especially careful in his formulation of the Anabaptist perspective in conversation with both Catholic and Protestant perspectives. It is also important because of its role as an act that has the potential to subvert the wider cultural malaise that helps to contribute to a condition of alienation rather than reconciliation. This view is based on the conviction that people were created by God to experience synergy, rather than rupture and estrangement, with their deepest selves, with the environment, and with other people. We will be helped in this section by showcasing Finger in conversation with Rodney Clapp.

Finger, as a Christian within the Free Church tradition, emphasizes the importance of a committed believer’s baptism as opposed to the widespread practice of infant baptism. This is not a polemical stance, however. Finger readily engages both Catholic and Protestant voices regarding the practices of baptism in the church universal. He admits that, historically, believers’ baptism has been viewed in an oppositional manner from the perspective of Protestants and Catholics. He writes,

Sociologically, baptism resembles other processes by which people begin participating in groups. Some persons join organizations through dramatic decisions or conversions (say, from alcoholism). Others find group identity gradually, through increased involvement in ethic, special interest or religious solidarities. Transitions of the first kind typify historic Anabaptism and current evangelical movements. The second has characterized most ecumenical churches.

These differences, however, do not preclude Finger from engaging in a rich ecumenical dialogue regarding the practice of believers’ baptism and its possible contributions to the theological thinking of both Catholic and Protestant groups. He reminds us that “most scholars now concur that baptism in East and West, until at least the fourth century, was normally performed on catechumens. Persons became catechumens by forsaking negative behaviors and affirming their desire to join the church. From then on they were regarded as part of it.” Finger contends that, because of this early near consensus between both East and West, the Anabaptist conviction regarding believer’s baptism is currently gaining favor. Even within the Roman Catholic tradition, there are those who prefer adult baptism as a “norm of baptism” that receives its origin “from the New Testament doctrine of conversion.” He notes that the language of Vatican II describes baptism as “a solemn sacramental initiation done especially in the paschal vigil and preceded by a catechumenate of serious content and considerable duration.” From this Finger deduces that, even within the post-Vatican II era, Roman Catholicism considers infant baptism “abnormal – but in the sense of less than ideal, not impermissible.”
Thus he believes that the Anabaptist – and Free Church – conviction that baptism must involve conscious conversion as opposed to unconscious welcoming into a fellowship is currently more influential than it has been in recent years. He adds that many groups, both Protestant and Catholic, are learning from this historic practice. This interaction is important because of the contempt with which both Anabaptists and Roman Catholics have regarded one another at different times throughout history. In other words, Finger is engaged in theological bridge building. Although this interaction contains much commendable interaction, Finger retains the historic Anabaptist conviction of believers’ baptism. He writes, “At this moment, then, I think Anabaptists can best contribute to others by asking, gently, whether their own positions might not point toward aligning confession with baptism: toward making these together the distinctive initiating sacrament (as believers’ baptism).” This position that baptism must be aligned with confession provides the impetus for our interaction between Finger and Rodney Clapp.

As noted above, Clapp is not necessarily a Free Church Christian in the institutional sense, but he does indicate the formative influence of theologians within the “neo-Anabaptist” vein of thought. He claims that it is this group, along with the postliberals “who, among contemporary theologians…most faithfully and adeptly fit us for the challenges of this day and place.” Therefore, although he is not fully “Free Church,” I believe that he provides us a good platform from which to use Finger’s view of Baptist (and, incidentally Clapp’s view as well) as a way to combat the force of alienation in our contemporary culture. It is with this in mind that we begin our discussion of the formative role of baptism in the Christian life.

Toward the end of his discussion of baptism and its importance for the outer life of Christian witness to the world, Finger asks the question of which form of baptism – infant or believers’ – makes most visible the repentance and new communal life into which the baptized person has been initiated. His answer clearly reflects his heritage and position as a committed Christian in the Free Church tradition. He writes that it must be “one which celebrates and actualizes deliberate movement away from the “world” through burial with Christ and toward the new creation through resurrection with him.” That believers’ baptism represents a deliberate turning toward the community of Christ and toward Jesus as Lord is important in formulating a response to the alienation about which Finger concerns himself. If alienation is the opposite of God’s plan for humanity, then baptism is the beginning on that journey toward reconciliation that brings us into that “true and proper” state of being in relation to our inner selves, the earth, and other people.

Clapp writes, “The New Testament understands life in the church as a kind of resocialization, an enculturation according to the standards of the kingdom of God rather than this world.” This resocialization shares great affinity to the “turning” emphasized by Finger’s understanding of the rite of believers’ baptism. In his discussion of baptism, Clapp recounts the familial commitments that the New Testament view of baptism entails. He writes of Paul that “he reminds believers that they have a new identity because they have been baptized into Christ and adopted as sisters and brothers. When children are adopted they take on new parents, new siblings, new names, new inheritances – in short, a new culture.” This “new inheritance” can and must be viewed in opposition to the culture of alienation so prevalent in our current context. “Seen in this light,” Clapp writes, “baptism is profoundly subversive. Anytime a church takes baptism seriously, which is to say on its own terms, the surrounding society cannot help but see it as at least potentially politically [and socially] threatening.” This is not the threat of physical harm or of revolutionary upheaval (although these have been, perhaps wrongly, enacted as interpretations of the baptismal responsibility) but of significant spiritual and physical allegiance to a community that is, in the end, more important than any other. This importance is not an elitism that often overshadows the reconciling work of the church but rather an importance that calls people to the great purpose of God for humanity: community with the their truest selves, with God’s creation, and with other people. Indeed, baptism is an important way to subvert the currents of alienation in our society because in its baptism the church insists emphatically that there is “another kind of kinship, a particular allegiance, more significant and constitutive than that of the biological family or the state” or the prevailing winds of popular culture and societal trends. In this way, through baptism, the church initiates people into a community that does not “go to church” but rather “is the church.” The church is that community that, instead of allowing people to flounder in a world of confusion and doubt about who they are in relation to inner realities, to the earth, and to society, allows them to find themselves as people created, loved and sustained by God in that great community that shares in the goodness and love God. Overcoming alienation through this mysterious physical and spiritual community is an important part of God’s mission for the world. This is evident in Finger’s thought regarding baptism as a “turning” away from alienating modes of behavior and toward God through conversion to the body of Christ. Thus, with Clapp’s help, we are able to conceive of the baptismal sacrament as the beginning initiation into a community that has the potential to be a conduit of reconciliation and healing in opposition to prevailing culture that so often alienates and destroys.

Concluding Remarks

Alienation is the condition in which many in our society exist. We are estranged from our true potential as human beings. We (often inadvertently) exploit nature for personal gain and convenience. And we are suspicious of both neighbors and friends. These are all simply examples of our current state of alienation and they are more prevalent than we might think. We live in a time in which the planting of personal “roots” is an increasingly unpopular concept; a time in which the need to travel for both business and recreation overrules our respect for the creation through which we travel; and a time in which we barely know those who live and work around us every day. Thomas N. Finger has taken issue with these conditions and in his writing, he offers both an analysis of the contemporary roots of alienation and an understanding of the ways in which this alienation has affected individual people as they relate to themselves, to the earth, and to the broader society. It has been my hope throughout this essay that Finger’s perspective can offer some constructive advice to Christian individuals and communities that struggle daily with the harshness of alienation in our context. We have been helped in this endeavor by bringing Finger into conversation with Jonathan R. Wilson and Rodney Clapp – thinkers who have been formed by the Free Church tradition and who have helped in clarifying the context and needs for our current context.

Thomas Finger’s Sacramental Theology of Alienation - Part 2

Planting Roots: Alienation and the Enlightenment

Now that we have a basic understanding of Finger’s terms, we may turn to discuss what he believes to be at the root of contemporary alienation: Newtonian physics. This may seem like a stretch even to a historian of science and culture but Finger’s thesis deserves a fair hearing. What he means when he speaks about Newtonian physics as the cause of this contemporary process of alienation is that the advent of Newtonian Physics marks the beginning of the breakdown of a metaphysical metanarrative view of the way the world works. He writes

According to the enlightenment’s “metanarrative,” which has shaped Western culture, the scientific revolution consisted in the triumph of observation and reason over tradition and authority. Until then, scientific views, much like religious and social ones, had been based on what the Bible and ancient philosophers (especially Aristotle) had said. These views were taught for centuries by the institutional church and continued to be repeated by its authoritative leaders. Over against this reliance on tradition – the metanarrative continues – the scientific revolutionaries insisted on empirical observation.

So we see that the modern scientific era ushered in a metanarrative, not of authority, received tradition, and metaphysical reality, but of “fact”, reason and logic. Indeed, “it began, we might say, by separating questions of essence, purpose and value from questions of fact.” Finger and others critique such a separation on the grounds that “fact, reason, and logic” are affirmations grounded themselves on faith affirmations.
Whatever the presuppositions were, it was Sir Isaac Newton (at least according to Finger) who was the first in this era to set in place a complete paradigm that many believe has governed society’s view of reality even up to our current era. Finger explains Newton’s role in this cultural shift as one that has profoundly effected our current situation as people who live and exist in a highly industrialized society. A central concept to Newton’s scientific paradigm was the division of reality into individual particles. “Every particle occupied a precise point on a homogenous, undifferentiated absolute space stretching infinitely in all directions, and every event occurred at a precise moment on an uninterrupted, evenly-flowing continuum of absolute time.” Thus the individual particle occupying absolute space and flowing in absolute time becomes the ultimate, irreducible, final “real entity” of reality.

In line with the Newtonian paradigm, and in the spirit of the times, John Locke asserted that the most basic unit of society was the individual. As with other leaders in the enlightenment era, Locke “regarded the traditional hierarchical laws and customs of European society, which deprived the masses of power and wealth, as analogous to the faulty organizing principles of medieval science.” The task of scientific and societal inquiry became that of analyzing and reducing the hierarchical structures (both literal and metaphysical) to their most basic parts. Locke’s vision of the pinnacle of societal development would “leave individuals as free as possible to pursue whatever brings them pleasure and mitigates pain.” The individual, not the community, becomes central in Locke’s paradigm. Thinkers such as David Hume and Adam Smith carried Locke’s banner with a few additions and changes and Hegel and Marx provided interesting critiques that, although helpful, were also influenced by the Newtonian paradigm.

Ultimately, however, the enlightenment is at least partially responsible for the shaping of modern industrial society that, according to Finger, with its assembly lines and lack of a place for a metaphysical interpretation of history and scientific inquiry, paved the way for many forms of contemporary alienation. How is it, then, that alienation is caused by this need to reduce both society and scientific inquiry to its most basic parts? What about this cultural environment engenders alienation from the self, from the earth, and from society as a whole? In order to further understand the roots of this alienation, one must see that it is not the enlightenment itself that brings about the conditions for alienation but, indeed, its failure as a viable cultural spirit.

Two of Finger’s “theological kindred spirits” may help us understand this cultural failure as well as the necessary Christian response: Jonathan R. Wilson and Rodney Clapp. Jonathan R. Wilson, a Baptist Christian writer who is Professor of Theology at Carey Theological College, has written Living Faithfully in a Fragmented World: Lessons for the Church from MacIntyre’s After Virtue in part as an affirmation of the ultimate failure of the enlightenment project to “achieve an independent rational justification for morality.” Rodney Clapp is an Episcopalian who, although not technically part of the Free Church admits the formative influence that neo-Anabaptists such as Stanley Hauerwas in his own theological thinking. In the next section, we will examine his understanding of the community as found in A Peculiar People: The Church as Culture in a Post-Christian Society. Of course, these are not the focus of our inquiry here but we will be able to understand the roots of in Finger’s thought by some engagement with both Wilson and Clapp. We will begin this section with Wilson and turn to Clapp in the final section on the Christian community as corrective to alienation.

As we observed earlier, Many of the enlightenment’s “purely scientific” assertions were based themselves on faith commitments. In addition, although he does not state it explicitly, many of Finger’s observations and critiques of the actions and lives of people in contemporary culture rely on an assumption that the enlightenment failed to achieve the goals for which it aimed. This is evidenced by the fact that, even with the hopes and dreams of the enlightenment of a better society somehow free from metaphysics and purpose, Finger still believes that something is wrong. Finger obviously believes that, although the Newtonian paradigm offered to “fix” the problems of culture, alienation is as much a problem in our current society than it has ever been.

Wilson has a different term for this process that Finger has identified as alienation – that is, fragmentation. In Living Faithfully, he recounts a story told by Alasdair MacIntyre that posits an imaginary scenario in which the science community is eventually wiped out in a terrible, bloody revolt. Rationality and reason are demonized and scientists tortured and killed. Years later, in MacIntyre’s story, an “enlightened” people attempt to revive science but with little success. They do not speak the language. They have only fragments of experiments that are attached to no true theoretical framework. People in this new “enlightened” society argue about the importance of various scientific theories with no true knowledge of any of them and “those contexts which would be needed to understand what they are doing have been lost, perhaps irretrievably.” In this fictional parable MacIntyre relates the point that

in the actual world which we inhabit the language of morality is in the same state of grave disorder as the languages of natural science in the world which I described. What we possess, if this view is true, are the fragments of a conceptual scheme, parts of which now lack those contexts from which their significance derived.

Fragmentation (much like Finger’s alienation) describes the state of affairs in which people are disconnected from their roots. Both terms describe “a general condition in which elements that belong together, which should be supporting and sustaining each other and which ultimately cannot survive apart, are profoundly estranged and hostile.” An example of this may be found in the disconnect between the work of a person’s hands and the end product in industrialized society (an enlightenment development). In a furniture assembly line, one person may attach legs to tables for an entire month without ever seeing or touching a completed table to which he has contributed. The person who only sees the individual table leg is always disconnected from the work of his hands, and thereby loses an essential connection with his identity as a person who builds furniture. The assertion that a person “belongs with” the work of his hands is but one example of the type of alienation of which both Finger and Wilson speak. Another example is likely more personal. Christian people today (myself included) will often travel hundreds of miles a month to attend a church which suits their “needs” without ever knowing that, by using excess fuel and wearing out their tires, they are contributing to the widespread degradation of the earth’s resources for the sake of comfort and convenience – not to mention they are losing a vital sense of rootedness in a community of fellow travelers in Christ.

All of these things are examples of our current state of alienation. What, then is Finger’s response, to these issues alienation? What solution does he believe to be best in our current circumstances? In the next section, with the help of Rodney Clapp, we will investigate the role of the Christian community in general, and the practices of Baptism and the Eucharist in particular, as ways to combat alienation in contemporary culture.

Up Next…Rodney Clapp & Baptism as Mortal Combat

Thomas Finger’s Sacramental Theology of Alienation - Part 1

I must preface this series of posts with the statement that what is to come is a work in progress. I have submitted this paper (for better or worse) for evaluation in my course entitled The Church and the Christian Life with Dr. Steven R. Harmon. Harmon is the professor of theology at the Campbell University Divinity School. He is also the Vice Chair of the Doctrine and Interchurch Cooperation Commission of the Baptist World Alliance (of which Dr. Paul Fiddes is the chair). I am awaiting his critiques and constructive comments regarding this research. As this is my academic work, I ask that anyone who happens to read it would be respectfully critical and please let me know where it could use some work. The paper has been turned in for final evaluation, so what you’re reading is the final form. I will submit this as a series of blogs for thoughtful consideration by anyone who has a mind to read it. Here goes nothing…

Part 1 - Introducing the Scene

Alienation. When reading this word, we may think of an argument between friends or an individual who has lost their sense of identity through a tragic turn of events. We may recall how it felt to be excluded from a game or neglected as a child when parents were too selfish to provide enough nurture. Whatever the image or recollection, anyone familiar with this word has likely experienced its force in life today. Thomas N. Finger wrote Self, Earth & Society: Alienation and Trinitarian Transformation as a response to this phenomenon.

A Mennonite, Thomas Finger does theology from a thoroughly multi-disciplinary perspective by engaging psychology, sociology, philosophy, and popular culture in addition to engagement of common theological themes. Through this interaction, he attempts to offer a constructive response to the problem of alienation, multifaceted as it is, from a distinctively Anabaptist Christian perspective. That he writes from an Anabaptist perspective is important because this essay’s focus is that of Free Church theology. By this is meant theology that, in one way or another, is connected to those ecclesiastical traditions that affirm a reduced or local church government and who are intentionally disassociated with church groups that would be considered “state ecclesiastical bodies.” This does not mean that “free churches” refuse to interact in an ecumenical way with church groupings that have more encumbered ecclesial structures (or even those that are connected with a state). But it does mean that the style of government and relation to the state is particularly distinctive. There are other aspects that would make a theologian a Free Church theologian and these will be addressed with regard to Finger as this research progresses. All this is to say that the guiding assumption behind this essay is that, because he is a Mennonite, Finger’s approach to theology will be shaped by his formation within that tradition, a tradition that, historically, is squarely within the “bounds” of what is considered a Free Church body.

Therefore, this essay has two primary purposes. The first is an investigation of the roots of contemporary alienation and the second is an examination of Finger’s view of the Christian community as a possible corrective to this phenomenon. Throughout our examination of the second purpose, we will gain an understanding of the extent to which Finger’s understanding of the community as corrective to alienation is indeed distinctive to his formation as a Christian in the Free Church tradition. The primary works that will be used to confront these issues are Self, Earth, & Society as mentioned above and A Contemporary Anabaptist Theology. Before these issues may be addressed, however, we must move to speak about what Finger means when he uses the term, “alienation,” in the first place.

Gaining our Footing: What is Alienation?

In this section, we will address the cultural/philosophical movements that he believes helped contemporary modes of alienation come into being. Finger has outlined three main types of alienation that are linked respectively to the terms in the title of his book, Self, Earth, & Society. For our purposes, a list and brief explanation of each of these types will suffice. Unfortunately the space needed to explore the particularities of each of these types will have to wait for another time with more paper space. Nevertheless, the major types of alienation that Finger identifies are as follows: Psychological alienation is “alienation of oneself from one’s deepest self.” Ecological alienation refers to “alienation of technological civilization from its nonhuman environment.” And social alienation refers to “alienation of individuals and groups from one another, from social institutions, and from their social potential.” Each of these comes together to form a large part of the context for human relations. Finger believes that psychology, ecology and sociology are not only to be addressed individually but also as a collective whole because together they comprise the three major divisions of observable human life. That they must be addressed collectively reflects the historic Anabaptist emphasis on the Christian life as a holistic living out of certain disciplines within a community of fellow travelers in Christ. Once again, the particular modes will be addressed as each one presents itself as relevant to the overall treatment of alienation but a fuller discussion of the particularities will have to wait for a separate investigation. For Finger, alienation refers to

a general condition in which elements that belong together, which should be supporting and sustaining each other and which ultimately cannot survive apart, are profoundly estranged and hostile. Alienation occurs when deeply moving experiences are repressed from consciousness, when rains pouring off eroded hillsides wash away life-sustaining crops, when ethnic groups that should enrich each other go at each other’s throats…Alienation indicates that the dividing action is somehow internal to the reality which is divided.

Thus we see that alienation is the state in which many of us live, at least on some occasion. This definition encompasses each of the three particular modes of alienation mentioned above. We are, Finger argues, estranged from and hostile toward our true selves, the environment, each other. This estrangement is at the heart of alienation in contemporary culture.

What is the extent of this estrangement? How far have we gone away from that “true and proper” state of being? “The whole is not simply split into two parts, of which one might be more truly the whole than others. Alienation, nonetheless, is a sense of rupture so irretrievable that it leads many people to…despair.” Thus the extent of alienation often seems to be too deep for any significant healing. This seems particularly true with aspects of psychological alienation as interpreted by Freud. For Freud, the alienation of a person from one’s truest self will always be in conflict with repressed memories and modes of being within time and space. Thus, “for psychoanalysis, coping with alienation will involve finding a way to work within it rather than seeking a way out.” At any rate, Finger believes that alienation is the root of despair, loneliness, and fear in our contemporary society. Where did this condition of rupture originate? Why do so many people today find that alienation, rather than health, synergy, and community, is the normative feature of human life? Finger believes that it all has something to do with the enlightenment.

 

More to come in the next post….

How far is too far (or far enough)?

This semester I am taking a class called “Cultural Plurality and Christian Mission.” We began by reading Shusaku Endo’s, Silence and then moved on to Bishop Lesslie Newbigin’s The Gospel in a Pluralist Society. Each of those books have provided us with fruitful discussions about what it means for the mission of the church to be a witness to the truths of the Christian faith. However, it was in this week’s reading of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart that we got to the heart of the matter and to what I believe to be one of the most pressing questions both throughout the history of Christians missions and for our proclamation of the Gospel today: “How much about Christianity can be altered or removed to adapt to the context of a particular culture before the faith that is accepted, lived and preached is no longer faith in Jesus Christ and his message?”

Allow me to rephrase this with an example from Achebe’s book. In Things Fall Apart we are faced with the issue of the eventual loss of distinctive aspects of Igbo culture (some of which might be offensive and strange to the western mind) because of the introduction of aspects of western imperialism intrinsic in the missionaries’ presentation of the Gospel message. Without giving too much of this book away (although most people should have read this book in high school), allow me simply to say that it is my opinion that, because of the introduction of certain aspects of imperialist western culture into the culture of the Igbo people that were intrinsic in the missionaries’ understanding of the Gospel (features such as ‘western’ systems of government, national borders, etc), this culture was significantly changed and individual lives of persons within this culture (at least in Achebe’s fictional account) were destroyed.

While I do not believe that it is necessary to present the Gospel in such a way that causes simple syncretism to morph into complete relativism and lack of conviction, I most certainly do believe that there must be a way to present the Gospel to cultures who do not share our supposed universal sense of “right and wrong” of “law and democracy.” If the Gospel is indeed a universal message for all humankind, then there must be a way for its message of good news to be accepted in non-western cultures that does not necessarily require an acceptance of all aspects of western culture and society.

I suppose this post is more a question than any sort of statement. Are there concrete ways to allow people in “other” cultures to hear (and subsequently accept and attempt to live) the Good News without either sacrificing the essential truth claims and way of life modeled by Christ or necessarily making the newly believing person into a carbon copy the culture that presented and (hopefully) modeled the Gospel in the first place?

Toward the end of class a scripture quotation was brought to bear in the discussion and the suggestion was made that, if imperialism happened to be a by-product or unintended result of the spread of the Gospel, then so be it. The scripture was from the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 10, verses 34-39:

“Do not think that I have come to bring beace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.

For I have come to set a man
against his father,
and a daughter against her
mother
and a daughter-in-law against
her mother-in-law;
and one’s foes will be members
of one’s own household.

Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Does this witness from scripture mean that,

[...even if our presentation of the Gospel divides tribes by creating national boundaries based upon financial interests, even if our presentation of the Gospel offends the long-cherished customs of a particular people group, even if our presentation of the Gospel (however inadvertently) makes clear the path to violence and oppression...]

we are still justified in our “witness” as long as we remain true to the Gospel as it seems right to us?

At what point do we decide that the customs of a given culture and the dignity of human life are more important than those logical propositions that we call the “truths” of the Gospel?

Any comments or suggestions?

 

Tables…

“We are short not only of tables that welcome strangers but even of strangers that welcome friends. In a society that prizes youthfulness, the elderly are often isolated from the affection and care of their own families. In many busy families, children find no after-school welcome home, and spouses find little time to host one another over supper. And when we become estranged - separated by grievances large or small, or simply crowded out of one another’s lives - we all too often become “strangers” even to those we once loved. Can we move beyond strangeness and estrangement to learn the skills of welcoming one another and to claim the joy of homecoming?”

~Ana Maria Pineda (in Practicing Our Faith)

Saturday, three good friends came over and shared dinner with Lydia and I. The purpose of the evening was to begin discussing what it would mean to move toward a deeper life of faith in Christ by living in community with one another. We did not answer this question - we never expected to. But part of me suspects that simple sharing food and wine and fellowship with one another is part of the answer. A toast to rebirth.

The Truth about War: on Tragedy and Sacrifice

Opening statement: I have published this short essay on my blog simply to say in public the things that I often think in private. There are some statements in the writing below that may be offensive for some and may inspire anger and even hatred for others. But before reading, please know that I do not intend to offend anyone or to incite negative reactions. As I said, I just want to say in public what I think in private. Feel free to criticize, but I ask that you do so in a gracious manner. I will not publish comments that I believe to be malicious in any way.

I am often confronted with the idea that, in warfare, soldiers are sacrificing their lives to save others. I am told that I must respect their actions in warfare because of their sacrifices and because they’ve given up so much to fight for my rights. On the surface, this is a solid idea. There is no question that I respect and am humbled by soldiers and the difficult work that soldiers do. Indeed, being myself a pacifist, I can and will never do what a soldier does. In one view, I could say that soldiers do the work that I cannot do. They fight for me and for my freedom in this society because I will not and cannot fight or kill. However, as much as I respect military personnel and the fact that they place themselves in dangerous situations (presumably) for the sake of freedom and helping others, I cannot speak of deaths and injuries sustained in warfare as sacrifice. Moreover, I cannot truthfully say that I respect soldiers because they do what I am unwilling to do in order to preserve my rights and freedoms. That is to say, that, although I do have great respect for military personnel, my respect is not a product of their fighting for me [the reasons for my respect will be expounded upon soon enough]. In this entry, I explore the idea of sacrifice and ask the question, “Is sacrifice a reality in warfare?”

I will begin by speaking about the real reasons why I respect military persons. I mentioned before that I am a pacifist. I have explained my reasons for this conviction in previous entries and will not take the time to do that here. The purpose of this section is to explain that, while I understand that military personnel perceive that they are fighting to protect my rights and freedoms, they are in fact not fighting for my rights and freedoms at all. Military operations in war exist for the purpose of combating ideologies that the dominant culture views as inappropriate and dangerous. In the case of the current war, we have terrorism. Ideally, each and every person engaged in military operations in the current war believes that he or she is fighting to preserve the rights and freedoms of the American people against the dangerous ideologies that fuel terrorism. On the surface, this is a true statement. But, in the case of the body of Christ [the universal Church], the idea that the military fights for the freedoms of the persons who make up Christ’s body is false and can never be true. The Church does not need armies and wars to defend it. And when these things have been called upon to protect the church, the outcome has always been disastrous. The Church of Jesus Christ is sustained by the Spirit of God and faithfulness of Christians worldwide to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Certainly one may question thus: “If the armies of this world set out to destroy all Christians, would God intervene and stop the killing of his people or would Christians have to stand up and fight for their own safety and freedom to live in faith?” Certainly there is the reality of death - and the reality of the fact that not all Christians (unfortunately) live nonviolently - but does this reality always imply the doom of a people to perish? If Christians believe that Christ is our Lord and our Savior, then we must be willing to trust in the faithfulness of God to sustain us amid violence and oppression without the use of military powers and principalities of this world. When Christians support the idea that war is tragic but necessary, we show nothing but our lack of faith. Indeed, when Christians call upon the powers of this world to sustain us, we are no longer Christians because we have ceased to have faith in Christ alone as the source and protector of all life. It is for these reasons that I do not hold as reasonable the honoring of military personnel simply for the fact that they fight when we do not. This idea presumes that Christians need military people to fight for us. Once again, the argument comes: “If you refuse to fight and if the military does not protect you, you will die.” To this we must say, “Faith in Christ does not require that our life on this earth last longer than this present moment. Our faith, our hope, and our trust are in the promise of salvation and true life brought by Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. Christians do not need the military to protect us because our life will not end after our physical bodies cease to exist.” If those people who call themselves Christians would have faith in Christ enough to trust in the effectiveness of the resurrection in defeating death, this world would certainly look much different. Understand this: I have profound respect for those people who serve in the military. I never want to demean their lives or belittle their deaths. The reason that I respect military persons stems from the fact that they do actually live out what they believe is right - something that pacifist Christians can learn from. They fight for and suffer with innocent people who have no defenders. But in the end, the point is this: in the resurrection of Christ, their fighting is not necessary. This is why my respect for military persons is not rooted in the belief that they fight for me: because they don’t. God fought for me and won two-thousand years ago when he was beaten, humiliated, crucified, and raised from the dead thereby eliminating the need for war on our behalf. I have seen the poster that says, “A Modest Proposal for Peace: Let the Christians of the World Agree That They Will Not Kill One Another.” If this were to become a reality, then maybe the world would see the senseless nature of war and we could, indeed, have peace in the name of Jesus Christ.

As a non-military citizen, I cannot attempt to portray all that military training entails. Therefore, I welcome any correction regarding the following statements. To participate in warfare, a person needs training. On a basic level, military training involves a sort of reprogramming of the civilian mind. The mind and all its instincts are programmed to fight and fight effectively and to kill (only if necessary). We must at this juncture ask ourselves if, since we must be trained to be effective fighters, this is a profession for which a person could have ever been created for. Or, to put it another way, does not the fact that one must be trained to kill reflect the essential truth that warfare and killing are not natural to humanity. We were created to be peaceful and military training reverses our otherwise non coercive impulses - moving them toward the need and drive to coerce in order to gain a favorable outcome in a given situation. Thus are military personnel trained to fight. Because of this training, a military person always has the ability to fight back against and, as a last resort, to kill the enemy. It is in light of this fact that I cannot speak of the deaths of military personnel as sacrifices. Because they have the ability to fight back and kill the person who could potentially injure and kill them, the military person lacks the ability to offer an effective sacrifice. Sacrifice implies the willing laying down of one’s life for another - and in the Christian world view, of laying down one’s life even for the enemy. Indeed, the only word that can effectively describe the death of a military person is tragedy - not sacrifice. At the very basic level, the death of a military person in combat is essentially an accident - still not a sacrifice. These things are not sacrifice because of the above named ability and instinct to fight back and kill before being killed. Therefore, it is right and proper to speak of the death of a military person in combat as an accidental death that occurred because the soldier wasn’t paying attention, because he didn’t pull his trigger before the enemy did, because he was careless, or any number of other reasons. The point is that none of these things are, in effect or essence, sacrifices because none of these involve the willing laying down of one’s life without any intention of fighting back in any way. A person who sacrifices knows that he or she will die. A person who sacrifices does not intend to stop the sacrifice but accepts that his or her unwillingness to fight back will probably result in the loss of their own life. There is nothing tragic about sacrifice because a sacrifice is not an accident - it is an intentional act with a known outcome that does not include fighting back or avoiding death. It is for these reasons that I cannot speak of the deaths of military persons as sacrifice. Certainly, they are tragic, sad, and senseless and preventable. But they are not sacrifices. What then, can be done to stop these tragedies? I refer back to the quote, “A Modest Proposal for Peace: Let the Christians of the World Agree That They Will Not Kill One Another.”

Grace and Peace,

Andrew Tatum

The courage to be…nonviolent.

“Nonviolent resistance to tyrants, oppressors and brutal invaders is not for fools or cowards. It demands courage and daring of the highest order. It requires discipline, training and a willingness to face death. Are there tough, brave volunteers for that kind of costly, demanding battle? Would the nonviolent troops be available to be trained by the thousands and then tens of thousands to form disciplined Christian Peacemaker Teams ready to walk into the face of danger and death in loving confrontation of injustice and oppression?”

~Ron Sider

I don’t know exactly how I originally became a pacifist.  I only know that, to this day, I still have violent urges but I could never dream of harming another human being.  I know that I get angry when people ride my bumper in traffic (although I’m working on that) but I also know that, in my heart and my mind, even the strongest anger couldn’t force me to do harm to another human being.  Yes, this may sound idealistic and I expect to hear the parade of questions like, “What if your wife or kids were in danger and the only way to save them is to do violence to the one putting them in jeopardy” or (my personal favorite), “What if you’re attacked at random…can you resist the gut instinct to fight back?”  Of course, my answer to these questions is, “I have no idea.”  I do know, however, that these questions focus on a one-sided, narrow view of possibilities in a given situation.  The assumption that violence is ever the only option is exactly what I am resisting by declaring myself a pacifist. When I say that I know I could never harm another human being, no matter what, I mean that I could never - in good conscience - do harm to another person.  Certainly, I am capable of violence and oppression.  I know this because I have been violent and oppressive before in my life.  But my decision to be nonviolent was not my own.   I cannot say I have always been nurtured by a nonviolent Christian community, but I have read a great number of authors that formed, for me, a sort of “church of nonviolent personalities.”  Theologians like John Howard Yoder, Stanley Hauerwas, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer have guided me toward my theological decision that, as a Christian, I would rather die than do any other person harm.  In addition, writers like Thoreau and Emerson have helped me to recognize beauty in simplicity and in the face of another human being, in their soul.  Emerson, especially, has likely been the greatest influence on my personality when dealing with theological and ethical things.  The individualism that is expressed in his writings helped me, not to be self-centered or egotistical, rather it helped me to understand the worth of every person.   Emerson’s essay, “The Oversoul,” gave me the idea that all humans are, inevitably, on a path to wholeness and unity.  For Emerson, Buddhism and unitarian spirituality inspired this view.  For me, the gospels and Jesus’ words to his followers in the sermon on the mount have provided my inspiration for feeling that we are all connected - via a grand, yet simple, covenant with the God who created the universe and everything in it.  We are being reconciled to God with each passing moment.  My decision to be a pacifist springs directly from this reconciliation. How can I, a mere man who is not divine, even acquiesce to the position in life where I feel confident that my own feelings, emotions, familial connections, or whatever justify violent behavior on my part toward another subject of God’s reconciliation.  I welcome your critiques and reactions to this.  This is the first time I have really put into words what first informed and inspired my turn away from violence and toward pacifism.  I fully understand that I may have, in my naive and still learning position, misrepresented the ideas of any number of the writers to whose writings I alluded.  However, I simply had to put into words the conviction that has, until now, been solely in my heart and mind.

Grace and Peace,
Andrew Tatum

 

Fear in the Christian life:

“In general, I hate Christian rock music. But now I have heard the songs of Derek Webb. Webb’s songs are free of the pietistic sentimentality that usually characterizes popular Christian music. His music, like the Gospel, is at once hard, edgy, and beautiful.”
- Stanley Hauerwas

I had a great conversation the other day with a few friends about fear. Throughout the song, “A New Law,” Webb points out common cultural norms and inconsistencies that Christians often adhere to without question or scruples. An exceprt here would be useful:

“don’t teach me about politics and government
just tell me who to vote for

don’t teach me about truth and beauty
just label my music

don’t teach me how to live like a free man
just give me a new law

(pre-chorus)
i don’t wanna know if the answers aren’t easy
so just bring it down from the mountain to me

(chorus)
i want a new law
i want a new law
gimme that new law”

So we see that Webb points out just a few of the cultural ideas that Christians often adopt without thinking of alternatives. We becomes slaves to “a new law” that Jesus probably never intended for us.

One of my friends mentioned that fear is the antithesis of faith. Indeed, 1 John 4:18 reminds us that “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” And, of course, God loved the world enough to die for it. So, for the Christian, fear is an unnecessary emotion or state of being. To my friend’s statement I, then, posed the question of the place of the fear of God in the Christian theology. Proverbs 1:7 tells us that “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.” Is the fear of God mere respect? Is it a fear that, if we do not do what is right and good, God will squash us? I think the fear we feel in this world is something entirely different from that. The fear that we feel is driven more by pride than by any moral idea of right and wrong or even by respect. For example, in politics, many Christians support leaders that claim to carry the banner of “Christian morailty” because of the fear that we don’t have the ability to pray and examine the issues ourselves. We need “moral leaders” because we are afraid to trust our communities of faith to be the normative witness for the truth in our lives. We are often afraid to take a stand on issues such as the morality of capital punishment because to be against capital punishment, for many in our society, is to be weak. And we are afraid of being weak, of not having enough power to sustain ourselves. This is rooted in the hubris of thinking that we could ever sustain ourselves. Certainly, we can plant crops, seek medical treatment, and procreate but, as people of faith, we believe that we are sustained by a higher power than ourselves. Fear, therefore, is counterintuitive to faith.

In Christ, are we not now free to live without fear of death and shame? We no longer need pride. We fear God because we know God’s love is so great. How can we not be in awe and fear of something so wonderful and powerful. Our outer life of deception and pride is being removed by God’s perfect love - our fear is being cast out by the truth. Fear of God is different from other fear because it leads us to wholeness and it is sought in humility. Maybe that’s what the fear of God is - ultimate humility reflected in our kindness.

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