Friday, December 17, 2021

Taking a Difficult Stand

I have been called out, and I confess to avoiding the moral elephant in the room.

Given the divisive nature of our national ethos, to take a stand on any issue is to  accept the inevitable binary response—love/hate, pro/con, right/wrong—and any attendant hostility directed at the person, rather than the issue on the table. There is no middle ground—no effort, intention, or desire to compromise or even to understand. It’s all about total agreement and compliance, and few will accept the possibility of being wrong. Obstinacy oozes from one end of the ideological spectrum to the other, but the bell curve skews heavily to the right.

By nature, calling, and training, I am a reconciler—a resolver of conflict. I believe any conflict can be resolved if all parties truly want resolution, but in our divisiveness the priority is “winning the fight,” not resolving the conflict.

One final disclaimer: I reject blanket generalizations. Individuals and groups within any faction will vary in the degree to which they align with any political, theological, or philosophical position. Human cognition is not an on/off switch; it is a graduated scale; therefore, not everyone within the categories I challenge will be culpable. If the shoe fits…

With those caveats, I take my stand: there is within the American Evangelical Right a faction[1] that overlaps with a faction within the political right (including parts of the Republican party[2]) and that overlap brews heresy. For 50 years that faction of evangelicalism has voted for Republicans ONLY because of their position on abortion. Nothing else seems to matter.

My quarrel is not with their opposition to abortion. I oppose abortion, as do many pro-choice advocates; but that’s material for another blog.

My quarrel is that in their obsession with that singular issue they tolerate an ideology that selectively dismisses virtually every teaching of Jesus regarding human relationships and community. Heresy is not necessarily false; indeed, in most cases heresy contains some truth—in this case, twisted by its selective omissions.

In ultra-conservative Christianity Today, Ronald Sider wrote that our first priority “must be internal integrity, not external (threat or influence). What a tragedy for evangelicals to declare proudly that personal conversion and new birth in Christ are at the center of their faith and then to defy biblical moral standards by living almost as sinfully as their pagan neighbors.” Sider continues:

“The findings in numerous national polls conducted by highly respected pollsters like The Gallup Organization and The Barna Group are simply shocking. ‘Gallup and Barna,’ laments evangelical theologian Michael Horton, ‘hand us survey after survey demonstrating that evangelical Christians are as likely to embrace lifestyles every bit as hedonistic, materialistic, self-centered, and sexually immoral as the world in general.’ Divorce is more common among "born-again" Christians than in the general American population. Only 6 percent of evangelicals tithe. White evangelicals are the most likely people to object to neighbors of another race. Josh McDowell has pointed out that the sexual promiscuity of evangelical youth is only a little less outrageous than that of their nonevangelical peers.”[3]

For over a century and a half, evangelicals have offered a “salvation only” approach to Christianity tied to a rigidly described and passionately anticipated after-life while ignoring any gospel mandate to shape just and compassionate human community in this life. Such imbalance is heresy.

I’ve had numerous conversations with evangelical acquaintances who run the gamut from seminary-trained clergy to vaguely aware laity, and their common political and social strategy is to wait until Jesus returns. He’ll take care of it.

The evangelical focus is individual salvation, individual morality (primarily, if not exclusively, sexual morality), and individual responsibility. There is virtually no guideline for social responsibility or even how to live once the individual is “saved,” other than don’t drink, smoke, dance, or have sex outside of marriage.

I affirm the idea of society based on a balance between personal and social responsibility. Such a model reflects the kingdom ethos taught by Jesus. But in the meantime, how do we affect justice and peace while we’re waiting for that to happen? It’s been 2,000 years!

But the passage of Roe v. Wade in 1973 activated the social consciousness of evangelicals, leading many to split their energies between a salvation only rhetoric, and an anti-abortion activism. The result is some of the most un-Christlike behavior in human history, which is heresy.

Pollsters George Gallup and George Barna reinforce Gandhi’s observation that professing Christians are “so unlike your Christ”.

Even Christianity Today acknowledges the disconnect—and takes a difficult stand. In a 2018 issue, a blistering op-ed described what moderate and progressive Christians (or anyone with even a cursory understanding of the life and teachings of Jesus) have been saying about our immediate past president. In part, it said,

“His Twitter feed alone—with its habitual string of mischaracterizations, lies, and slanders—is a near perfect example of a human being who is morally lost and confused. … To the many evangelicals who continue to support Mr. Trump in spite of his blackened moral record, we might say this: Remember who you are and whom you serve. Consider how your justification of Mr. Trump influences your witness to your Lord and Savior. Consider what an unbelieving world will say if you continue to brush off Mr. Trump’s immoral words and behavior in the cause of political expediency. If we don’t reverse course now, will anyone take anything we say about justice and righteousness with any seriousness for decades to come? Can we say with a straight face that abortion is a great evil that cannot be tolerated and, with the same straight face, say that the bent and broken character of our nation’s leader doesn’t really matter in the end…”[4] …as long as he appoints anti-abortion judges? [italics are my addition]

Richard Rohr said, “The evangelical support of Trump will be an indictment against its validity as a Christian movement for generations to come.”

It’s a matter of priorities, values, and truth, and the end does not justify the means. But the heresy imbedded in the religious right has infected a large portion of those who occupy the right side of the legislative aisle.

Again, heresy is not de facto false. It usually contains some element of truth, albeit an element typically misleading by virtue more of what it excludes than what it includes. Individual salvation and responsibility are valid concerns; but Jesus framed his teachings, his ministry, and his life as a call to life in a kingdom, and to deny kingdom responsibility is heresy.

That’s how it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim



[1] In my observation, but with no supporting data, the faction represents an overwhelming majority.

[2] Again, in my own limited observation, it includes most of the Republican party.


Monday, April 26, 2021

“My Bible Says…”

 

…has become a favorite go-to introductory phrase for many who are not initiated into the complexities of intense, in-depth study of Scripture. And they could be right. There are more than 450 English translations of the Bible, and none of them are identical. Search long enough and one probably can find a version that says what one wants it to say.

American Christian lay persons, especially in some more conservative groups, have been led to believe that Bible study is simple: just draw your chairs in a circle and each one read a verse and say what it means to me. And a growing attitude in conservative Christianity—parallel with an increasingly prevalent attitude among American conservatives in general—is that education is a detriment to faith. Theological seminaries, says the attitude, are “theological cemeteries.”

Biochemist and “Sci-Fi” author, Isaac Asimov, wrote, “There is a cult of ignorance in the United States, and there has always been. The strain of anti-intellectualism has been a constant thread winding its way through our political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that 'my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge.”

In a recent interview, FOX host, Tucker Carlson, said college education “diminishes us,” and “everyone should opt out.” He indicated the only real value in college education is “discrete knowledge” applicable to specific professions and careers. Medicine and engineering are two that he mentioned.

Always a dangerous idea, disregard for knowledge is never more dangerous than when applied to the study of ancient Holy Writ. Such a warped genre of faith expression is a spin-off: Calvinism gone amok. Faith is replaced with knowledge (Oral Roberts used to say, “I know that I know that I know…”), and questions are no allowed. Trust is replaced with certitude, and “being right” is the goal of all spiritual endeavors (because, while grace is preached, the actuality of that strain of Christianity is a “works righteousness” that says our relationship with God and our eternal destinies are determined by the correctness of our doctrine. ). And intelligence and integrity are measured largely by whether one “agrees with me.”

But here’s the thing: there are multiple doctrines claiming to be “right,” although virtually none of them are identical. Somebody has to be wrong! (Which is precisely why we need grace!)

What we must realize at the very beginning is that when we open any version of the Bible, we are reading a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy… ad infinitum.

Did somebody just play the “divinely inspired” card? With more than 450 English versions, and thousands of older (even ancient) manuscripts, scrolls, and fragments of various parts of the Bible written in multiple languages and dialects over several hundred years, none of which are identical, which is the divinely inspired one? And just because it’s “easy to read” doesn’t mean it’s true to the divinely inspired original documents, none of which exist today.

I don’t introduce all these issues and challenges just to stir the pot or to raise doubts. There is a valid, dependable way to arrive at a trustworthy understanding of Scripture that sustains the intent of the One who inspired it. But note: the understanding will be “trustworthy,” not certain. “The Word” is true—absolutely. But, limited as we are by the clay of which we humans are made, we do not possess the ability to know anything absolutely. At best—AT BEST—we will read and understand by faith, the opposite of which is not doubt, but knowledge.

I am not a medical professional. I don’t understand the mechanics of genetics or infectious diseases or immunology; therefore, I have to trust those who have devoted their lives to the healing arts. Of course, there are a few proverbial bad apples in every barrel, and while some medical professionals are seduced by the siren music of questionable applications and practices, and while others succumb to the temptations of profiteering, and while non-medical sources may politicize certain aspects of health care (e.g., immunizations), the overall consensus of reputable professionals almost always is the best path to follow.

I seriously doubt that any of those who comprise the overall consensus have dedicated their lives to the study and practice of healing just so they can mislead the public. I trust the consensus of mainstream medical science, and I accept its recommendations by faith.

The same holds true in any profession. I have a friend who is a petroleum engineer. He tells the oil companies where to drill. He studies multiple factors, such as the history of an area and its geological structure. He uses seismic technology. He reads samples collected from trial drillings. Then based upon “the preponderance of the evidence” (his words), he says, “Drill here.” Evidence produces faith, not certitude. Some holes will be dry.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1 NRSV) Speaking of God’s future time, Paul wrote, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” (I Corinthians 13:12 NRSV, emphases mine)

Most people are not professional theologians or biblical scholars. I have some training in both fields, and am conversant with the terminology; however, I have not engaged in the depth of investigation necessary to find “the preponderance of the evidence” within Holy Writ. I am dependent upon the work of those who have been thus engaged. In that regard, the primary difference between the general public and me is that (1) I am trained to use the resources produced by a consensus of mainstream theologians and biblical scholars, and (2) (maybe more importantly) I trust them.

I know the levels of study and research in which those professionals engage. I know the intensity of their dedication, and I don’t believe they have devoted their lives to their profession just to mess with people’s faith or to make us all liberals or communists.

There are two basic approaches to the study of Scripture. The first is to dig out what the Scriptures are saying. This is a clean slate discipline that endeavors to set aside all previously held ideas. It examines the available ancient texts in their original languages, and places them in their original cultural, historical, and religious contexts. They consider the placement of particular passage within the context of the broader reading. The general question is, “What was God saying to a particular people in a particular historical and cultural setting?” The task then becomes one of applying the ancient truths in our language, in our historical and cultural setting.

That approach is called “exegesis:” reading meaning “out of” the text; letting the text speak for itself.

The second approach is to assume the Bible’s message applies as is, de facto and en toto, to our time and to our culture, and to use the Bible as a tool for confirming ideas, creeds, and practices already in place. This approach is called “eisegesis,” reading meaning “into” the text. It sometimes is called “proof texting.”

It likely is evident that I advocate the former. I say, trust the mainstream theologians and biblical scholars. There is consensus among them, and the resources they produce are plentiful and useful.

If I may exercise a bit of self-indulgence, I suspect the most common reason the laity has difficulty with Scripture is not that it is so difficult to understand (although it is not easy!), but that the laity is not sufficiently motivated to dig into the study resources that readily are available. Devotional and inspirational sources sell; but in-depth study resources gather dust on book store shelves. Many also are reluctant to participate in studies led by those with competence in those resources.

I’m not concerned with what “your Bible” or “my Bible” says. My concern is with what “The” Bible says. And within the community of faith are those with the skills and resources I trust to guide me to the Bible’s truth.

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

Saturday, February 6, 2021

A National Dip Stick

 I am, by undergraduate degree, a scientist; a social scientist, in fact. I deal with data different from that of physicists, chemists, medical scientists, etc.; nevertheless, I use the same scientific method as they. I also have two postgraduate degrees, so I know something about research. And I have a smattering of training in statistics, so I know how to test the data I discover through research. I also know how to check out the conclusions drawn by others, and can usually recognize a red herring.

The upshot is that I’ve learned that I don’t really know much of anything absolutely. I gather a preponderance of evidence that creates a level of confidence in what I think I know. Bottom line: everything I do or say is based upon faith: trusting the process, whether I’m researching human behavior or a passage from the Bible.

In recent years I’ve grown increasingly concerned about the proliferation of belligerent partisanism in our culture, especially as demonstrated in the level of animosity on social media—what amounts to a pooling of ignorance and a glut of misinformed (or outright Uninformed) opinion and counter opinion (Hey, somebody’s gotta’ be wrong!)

I’ve tried to determine when, where, and how the hostilities began, hoping to find clues to how to bring some sanity to 21st century humanity. I’ve reviewed what I think I know, and I’ve done research (not nearly enough to justify another doctoral thesis), and I conclude it’s not a new reality. Man’s inhumanity to man[1] is as old as, well, humanity.

Partisan animosity enveloped the Continental Congress during the composition of the Declaration of Independence and on into the early years of the nascent United States. One need only recall numerous duels: Aaron Burr vs. Alexander Hamilton, Andrew Jackson vs. Charles Dickinson. Even some women got in on the action.

Some blame social media. I find no convincing evidence of that; although, some data suggests that social media has brought to light what already existed below the surface of social awareness. Social media basically is a dip-stick that measures the mood and attitude of our rampant partisanism.

I do, however, locate a significant “flash point” in America’s political mood swing toward angry intolerance. 1968 was a year not easily forgotten by those who lived through it and were politically aware. Riots triggered by Vietnam protests erupted in Chicago during the Democratic National Convention. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert Kennedy were assassinated. All this and the Vietnam conflict itself were brought into our living rooms via television. Public awareness was raised to unprecedented levels, and essentially never receded, although it remains tribally opinionated.

But the event that effectively drew the line in the sand happened four years later in the break-in to the Democratic National Committee headquarters in a Washington, DC office complex called Watergate. Implicated in the break-in and subsequent cover-up attempts, President Richard Nixon resigned, and the GOP has been out for revenge ever since. “Worse than Watergate” became a go-to claim every time a political opponent was caught with his hand in the cookie jar:

·         Chappaquiddick (“Bridgegate”) (Democrat): “Worse than Watergate”

·         Rigged Public Opinion Polls (Republican): “Worse than Watergate”

·         The Keating Five (4 Democrats and 1 Republican: “Worse than Watergate”

·         Iran-Contra (Republican): “Worse than Watergate”

·         Whitewater (Democrat): “Worse than Watergate”

·         Bush’s Iraq Coverup (Republican): “Worse than Watergate”

I could go on. And on. Ad infinitum. Ad nauseum. The die was cast at Watergate, and American politics—and the public’s perception of politics—descended into hell.

Revenge and counter-revenge so consume the major parties that constructive legislation is a pipe dream. The overwhelming appearance is that destroying a member of the “other” party, or blocking every legislative effort of the opposition takes precedent over the good of the country.

Truth no longer is based on evidence or documentation, but rather on party affiliation. We just don’t care if our guy or gal is guilty!

Ideology takes precedent over humanity, and any level of compromise is seen as a total surrender of values. (Values? There’s an oxymoron for ya’!)

I have a few Libertarian friends (and I cherish their friendship), and I don’t agree with them that “government” is de facto evil and bad. Government is a tool: no better or worse than those who wield it. But I find it very difficult to deny that the current state of our government totters on the brink of practicable counterproductivity. At best, it is distracted and ineffectual. Those few idealistic souls who enter the Senate or the House with hopes of making the world a better place soon are devoured by the corrupting influence of politics. In its present state there is little hope of constructive, positive, helpful legislation.

Rather than being a tool to actualize “a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity…” the government has become an end in itself.

But see, here’s the thing: we the people are caught up in the same vortex of self-destruction. The evidence I’ve collected suggests that instead of being a tool to produce the ideals of democracy, the government has become just like social media: a dip-stick to measure American culture. And what it measures is the residue of the “Me” generation.

Will Rogers said there are people in congress who shouldn’t be allowed to play with matches. Well, who put them there? Congress has become a mirror. Do you dare look into it?

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim



[1] Quoted from Robert Burns’ poem, “Man Was Made To Mourn: A Dirge”, 1784. Burns’ statement may have been a paraphrase of an earlier source, viz., "More inhumanity (to man) has been done by man himself than any other of nature's causes." Samuel von Pufendorf, 1673.

Saturday, January 30, 2021

Toward A More Perfect Union

 I’m reading A Promised Land, by Barak Obama, which brings current my process, begun in 2009, of reading at least one book by or about every United States President, beginning with David McCullough’s biography, Truman.

I was getting into Facebook about that same time, and quickly was drawn into the partisan belligerence that so characterizes that medium. I’m ashamed to say that I participated fully in the put-downs and the name-calling.

But something in me (my “God-in-Christ Link”, maybe?) kept bothering me about the animosity manifested in my Facebook posts, something wanting to strike out “in kind” against the negative, degrading posts filled with hostility and disrespect.

The books by and about Presidents called me in a different direction. Within the first few books I became aware that each President had something positive about his term and I initiated a conscious effort to find at least one significantly positive contribution by each President. As one might expect, that effort proved more difficult in some cases than in others; nevertheless, I have been able to find some good in each of the dozen Presidents from 33 through 45.

That effort was partly penance for the animosity of my early participation in the mindless political rants on social media—my indulgence in what, for the most part, remains a pooling of ignorance. 

I wasn't denying the deep problems within in the American ethos—the serious insider threats. But Facebook is not the problem. It’s a dipstick that measures the problem. Furthermore, I’m aware that my own experience there is biased: fewer than 20% of my 400+ online “friends” share my liberal perspective. I rarely see a balanced conversation; nevertheless, the elephant in the room remains: a deeply divided nation, catalyzed by extremist groups and riding the crest of a rigid, tribal, binary mentality created and nurtured by intentional use of distortions and misrepresentations of truth.

I found a different mentality in the easy camaraderie between the five (now four) living former presidents, including both Bushes, Carter, Clinton and Obama. A recent story relates a request made from President-elect Obama to President Bush during the transition between their respective tenures. Obama requested a get-together with the other four still living Presidents.

Mr. Bush cordially granted the request, and set up a luncheon at the White House. For two hours the three former Presidents and the outgoing one shared their wisdom and experience with the new kid on the block. I marked the reported cordiality and candor with which those five men related to one another. The disagreements that typified their political affiliations did not lead them into the mutual condemnation so common in political exchanges today.

Then, late in the afternoon of January 20, three of the remaining four from that White House luncheon (President Carter was ill) gathered to offer their support and availability to the new POTUS. In their interview, President Obama shared that they indeed had had their disagreements—even bitter disagreements, but they never forgot their common commitment to building “a more perfect union.”

That theme appears in the early pages of Obama’s book, A Promised Land. As Mr. Obama describes his first days as a United States Senator, he notes of a kind of collegiality that transcended the ideological differences. He writes:

“The old bulls of the Senate—Ted Kennedy and Orrin Hatch, John Warner and Robert Byrd, Dan Inouye and Ted Stevens—all maintained friendships across the aisle, operating with an easy intimacy that I found typical of the Greatest Generation. The younger senators socialized less and brought with them the sharper ideological edge that had come to characterize the House of Representatives after the Gingrich era. But even with the most conservative members, I often found common ground: Oklahoma’s Tom Coburn, for example, a devout Christian and an unyielding skeptic of government spending, would become a sincere and thoughtful friend, our staffs working together on measures to increase transparency and reduce waste in government contracting.”[1]

While I am conversant with Generational Theory, I hadn’t made any application specific to political styles and character. After reading that paragraph, I remembered the bitterness with which Robert Taft and Harry Truman fought during “working hours,” only to leave the bitterness on the table when the working day was over.

That same generation spawned people like Bill Buckley Jr., whose verbosity and wit could rip a guest to shreds during his television talk show, then he’d take his victim to dinner (Gore Vidal notwithstanding)..

But then came the “Me Generation,” AKA the “Entitled Generation”, and Generation X, and somewhere in that transition we the people lost our ability to remain civil in our disagreements.

Disagreement, when approached with the right spirit and information and communication skills, can produce positive and effective resolutions. But a significant portion of the current generation doesn’t want resolution, it wants confirmation and absolute conformity.

A thin line separates commitment and obstinacy, conviction and arrogance, assurance and blind dogmatism. That line is all that separates civility and barbarism. Some of today’s ideologues are oblivious to that line and unwilling to accept any possibility that they may be wrong about anything. When presented with facts, they simply declare alternative facts and continue their merry way. Truth and reality have no meaning for them. They simply fabricate their own truth and reality.

And so we have a raid on our nation’s capitol on January 6—a mob in full tantrum mode because they didn’t get their way.

In conflict resolution I always begin by asking both parties, “Do you really want to resolve the issue between you, or do you just want to win the fight?”

The January 6 riot was the residue of three generations of letting somebody else take care of the nation—three generations of apathy that produced a frighteningly large population of entitled people who just want to win the fight. They may be unreachable.

OF COURSE they don’t represent an entire generation. OF COURSE they don’t represent mainstream conservatism or liberalism. They represent the apathy and complacency of a reasonable majority which is capable, when we set their minds to it, of resolving almost any disagreement. The conservative English statesman and philosopher, Edmund Burke, wrote, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” We the people have done nothing far too long.

We have been reminded a number of times since January 6 that Democracy is fragile, and that it is, and always will be, a work in progress: a work toward “a more perfect union”. If our “more perfect union” ever is realized, it will be completely bi-partisan, acknowledging that there is some good in virtually every person and group and ideology.

That’s how it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim



[1] Barak Obama, A Promised Land (New York: Crown, 2020) p. 57.