The issue for tonight is the life and death issue of virginity—and the moral worthiness of religions. The sad fact, as reported by Najlaa Abou Mehri and Linda Sills for BBC News, is that in places around the world girls and young women are at risk if they cannot prove their virginity on their wedding nights. Imagine being murdered for failing to prove your virginity, if you are a woman, that is.
The report focuses on a French (Arab) surgeon, who performs a hymenoplasty to restore "virginity," that is, the ability prove virginity by a show of blood on the wedding night.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Supreme Separations, or Not
By a 5-4 vote, the Supreme Court ruled "that a white cross, erected as a war memorial and sitting on national parkland in the Mojave Desert, does not violate the constitutional separation of church and state," so reports Bill Mears for CNN. Liberals will be outraged. This is a clear violation of the First Amendment, they will argue. And conservatives will be thrilled. This honors the national heritage and brings God back into the picture.
I'm more interested in other dimensions of this issue, some of which will roll back around to the liberal and conservative positions.
I find it interesting that the cross is such a multivalent symbol. The cross was, historians remind us, an instrument of state 'terror', for want of a better word. The Romans used the cross—crucifixion—to deter others from following the example of persons who were crucified. The main message: do not run afoul of or provoke the state. Here we are, twenty-one centuries after Jesus' crucifixion, and the cross is supple enough to be used as a symbol of the national heritage, our way of life, the sacrifice of soldiers, and the rest. This cruel instrument has been neutralized, and turned into a symbol of America, of our national religion. No longer does it represent a state threat; no longer, by Christian transvaluation, is this threat turned into the promise of a non-violent Kingdom (of God). No, rather, the cross is a symbol of state-sanctioned purposes and national pride.
I find it interesting that in the history of Christianity the relationship of Church and State has inspired creative tensions. The earliest Church was an illegal upstart, but the Church gained more and more power and came to dominate Western civilization and was integral to the formation of Western nation-states. Because of abuses of power, both sectarian Protestants and Enlightenment liberals argued that the two swords—Church and State—were best kept separate. I find it interesting that this dance continues into our time. Usually, however, we do not bother to think about these historical antecedents.
I find it interesting that the cross is viewed by many as a proper symbol for the war dead. I am not denying that it is, just finding it interesting that so many see this as completely unproblematic.
I find it interesting that Christians on the right and the left generally ignore these issues to focus instead on the proper relationship to the state. There are exceptions to this: I think of Anabaptists, for example, who support Church-state separation of theological grounds.
I find it interesting that there are other issues of sacred trust—marriage, for example—that we also typically want to be solved by the state. Let us have a 'defense of marriage act' as if the state's power is what is most essential in keeping society and families glued together.
I find it interesting that in our social struggles an instrument of state oppression, which itself was transvalued by Christians into a symbol of grace, is being considered in law courts as an appropriate (because not only religious) expression of the people's national heritage.
So I become Catholic. That is, I propose that Christians--and I propose this from what Paul Tillich called 'the boundary', save that I propose it from the near-but-non-Christian side of that boundary--use the crucifix, and resist every other display of the cross. My thinking is that, with Jesus hanging there in anguish, we will be less likely to allow the cross to be sullied, and more inclined to ask for the state to stand aside.
So it is that the crucifix, and a certain kind of liberalism, meet. And so it is that essential limitations on state power—ostensibly a conservative view—also needs further articulation.
I'm more interested in other dimensions of this issue, some of which will roll back around to the liberal and conservative positions.
I find it interesting that the cross is such a multivalent symbol. The cross was, historians remind us, an instrument of state 'terror', for want of a better word. The Romans used the cross—crucifixion—to deter others from following the example of persons who were crucified. The main message: do not run afoul of or provoke the state. Here we are, twenty-one centuries after Jesus' crucifixion, and the cross is supple enough to be used as a symbol of the national heritage, our way of life, the sacrifice of soldiers, and the rest. This cruel instrument has been neutralized, and turned into a symbol of America, of our national religion. No longer does it represent a state threat; no longer, by Christian transvaluation, is this threat turned into the promise of a non-violent Kingdom (of God). No, rather, the cross is a symbol of state-sanctioned purposes and national pride.
I find it interesting that in the history of Christianity the relationship of Church and State has inspired creative tensions. The earliest Church was an illegal upstart, but the Church gained more and more power and came to dominate Western civilization and was integral to the formation of Western nation-states. Because of abuses of power, both sectarian Protestants and Enlightenment liberals argued that the two swords—Church and State—were best kept separate. I find it interesting that this dance continues into our time. Usually, however, we do not bother to think about these historical antecedents.
I find it interesting that the cross is viewed by many as a proper symbol for the war dead. I am not denying that it is, just finding it interesting that so many see this as completely unproblematic.
I find it interesting that Christians on the right and the left generally ignore these issues to focus instead on the proper relationship to the state. There are exceptions to this: I think of Anabaptists, for example, who support Church-state separation of theological grounds.
I find it interesting that there are other issues of sacred trust—marriage, for example—that we also typically want to be solved by the state. Let us have a 'defense of marriage act' as if the state's power is what is most essential in keeping society and families glued together.
I find it interesting that in our social struggles an instrument of state oppression, which itself was transvalued by Christians into a symbol of grace, is being considered in law courts as an appropriate (because not only religious) expression of the people's national heritage.
So I become Catholic. That is, I propose that Christians--and I propose this from what Paul Tillich called 'the boundary', save that I propose it from the near-but-non-Christian side of that boundary--use the crucifix, and resist every other display of the cross. My thinking is that, with Jesus hanging there in anguish, we will be less likely to allow the cross to be sullied, and more inclined to ask for the state to stand aside.
So it is that the crucifix, and a certain kind of liberalism, meet. And so it is that essential limitations on state power—ostensibly a conservative view—also needs further articulation.
Labels:
First Amendment,
Supreme Court
Küng, Weigel, & the Fading of Reality
I have commented recently in this blog about the Roman Catholic Church’s handling of the abuse scandal—especially Pope Benedict XVI’s call for penance. This brief reflection takes up part of the Church’s theological discussion of this issue, and then suggests that larger questions emerge than either theologian raises.
Hans Küng, a Roman Catholic priest and controversial theologian, recently published an open letter to the Pope claiming, among other things, that “There is no denying the fact that the worldwide system of covering up cases of sexual crimes committed by clerics was engineered by the Roman Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith under Cardinal Ratzinger (1981-2005).” (Ratzinger is now serving as Pope Benedict XVI.) Küng concludes his letter with six proposals, each of which asks the Pope to promote a broad reform of the Church’s handling of the issue of abuse—and thus also to reconceive papal and Church authority.
Hans Küng, a Roman Catholic priest and controversial theologian, recently published an open letter to the Pope claiming, among other things, that “There is no denying the fact that the worldwide system of covering up cases of sexual crimes committed by clerics was engineered by the Roman Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith under Cardinal Ratzinger (1981-2005).” (Ratzinger is now serving as Pope Benedict XVI.) Küng concludes his letter with six proposals, each of which asks the Pope to promote a broad reform of the Church’s handling of the issue of abuse—and thus also to reconceive papal and Church authority.
Labels:
Benedict XVI,
Catholics,
Muhammad,
penance,
Ratzinger
Monday, April 26, 2010
Oil Spills & Public Theology
Oil spills shock the mind, this most recent spill no less than previous ones, but we are not good about thinking in terms of scale or impact. This spill apparently is pouring 42,000 gallons of crude oil a day into the Gulf of Mexico. “At [that] rate,” the article tells us, “the leak would have to continue for 262 days to match the 11-million-gallon spill from the Exxon Valdez in 1989….” By what kind of analogy could we understand this? Most of us—I will include myself—don’t ponder spills like this long enough to comprehend the meaning of the words. We also seem generally disinclined to think about the impact of energy exploration, drilling for oil, and economic impact in religious or theological terms.
Labels:
public theology
Secularism in Lebanon
Here is some interesting news from Beirut. Lebanon is 60 percent Muslim and 40 percent Christian, and thus it must find a way to negotiate points of religious, social, and political unity and divide.
I am happy to see such news, and it is especially welcome against the backdrop of 2006, when the kidnap of an Israeli soldier led to conflict with Israel. If I have a reservation it’s related to the focus on secularism. When it comes to politics, too much focus on ideology—here, secularism—is a warning sign. Arab politics often seems drawn to theocracy on the one side and secularism on the other. This is the false choice suggested by Continental philosophy.
The story reports that “Omar Habib, 29, carried a fluorescent banner with skull and crossbones. ‘Sectarianism: danger,’ it read.” In this context, there should be no doubt that that is true.
The story reports that “Omar Habib, 29, carried a fluorescent banner with skull and crossbones. ‘Sectarianism: danger,’ it read.” In this context, there should be no doubt that that is true.
Labels:
Islam,
Muslims,
secularism
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Smearing Islam | Robert de Neufville | Big Think
Samiur Talukder, a former student (and now a Facebook friend), emailed me a response to de Neufville's article (Smearing Islam | Robert de Neufville | Big Think). Samiur offers a compelling case for keeping dialogue as open as possible:
I am a Muslim and am thankful for Robert de Neufville’s article entitled “Smearing Islam.” He brings to light things we should be willing to discuss. Franklin Graham’s characterization of Islam as evil offends me, but I urge Muslims to carefully think through the implications of the Pentagon’s decision to rescind his invitation to National Day of Prayer service.
Friday, April 23, 2010
April 17, 2009 ~ Rwandan Reconciliation | Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly
Tonight I will be posting Tijana Bokic's reflection on this article and then briefly replying to it. April 17, 2009 ~ Rwandan Reconciliation | Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly (Bokic, a former student of mine, originally posted this reflection on Facebook.)
Bokic argued that:
The socio-political implications of religion initially played an important role in choosing the appropriate truth and reconciliation mechanisms. Considering the involvement of certain religious leaders in crimes committed during the genocide period, it was not possible to initially implement the religious models of forgiveness in the reconciliation process.There is not a clear picture of how Rwandan people actually feel about the reconciliation process – some are openly skeptical and some are very quiet on issues such as genocide, justice or reconciliation.
Labels:
Rwanda
Thursday, April 22, 2010
South Park and The Prophet
Tonight I am thinking about South Park, and its representation of Muhammad. Note: I did not see the episode and probably will not. My reason is not a highly reflective philosophical position but rather mundane. Put simply, I don't watch the show.
For what it's worth, as I understand it, the visage of Muhammad was not revealed in the episode; he was wearing a disguise. This has not prevented some from issuing threats to the SP crew. As the Jyllands-Posten cartoon incident in 2005 showed, this threat should be taken seriously.
Labels:
Liberalism,
Muhammad,
Muslims
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
The End of Tolerance
Tom Haverly, a college teacher of mine (and now 'Facebook friend), has declared in a recent Fb post that enough is enough. Part of his post read as follows:
[I am] running out of tolerance. Pt. 1 Yesterday, a college classmate of mine and also, I think, a Nazarene minister recommended a "joke"-prayer that asked God to take Pres Obama's life. I have unfriended him. For one thing, if this president is worthy of death, then so am I.
Haverly, himself a former Nazarene and now an Episcopalian priest, is not anti-Nazarene. His point, rather, is that this particular friend crossed a line that brought their friendship to an end.
In reaction to his post, I commented that
In my view, to resist intolerance is to become more, not less, tolerant. So thank you for saying enough is enough. I'm going to publish a longer (philosophical-theological) comment in my little blog later.
Labels:
intolerance,
Liberalism,
Tolerance
Israel and Palestine: The Two-State Solution
Tonight in an event at the University of Bridgeport, I had the good pleasure to hear Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz’s views of the two-state solution for Israel and Palestine. Gurevitz serves as a rabbi at Congregation B'nai Israel in Bridgeport, Connecticut.
Gurevitz began her presentation with a reflection on perspective. She argued that, depending on one’s perspective, the founding of the modern state of Israel is either a great blessing or a great catastrophe. Neither perspective, she said, is truer than the other; both are true insofar as they define the perspective from which the founding of Israel is viewed.
Labels:
Israel,
Jews,
Muslims,
Palestine,
two-state solution
Monday, April 19, 2010
Interpreting the Constitution
As the country prepares for the nomination of a new Supreme Court Justice, a New York Times op-ed by Geoffrey R. Stone holds that the so-called strict constructionists are outright wrong. Whatever their rhetoric, conservative justices also must go beyond the “‘original meaning” of the [Constitution’s] framers” to interpret and apply it. Originalism is an “appealing but wholly disingenuous description… of what judges — liberal or conservative — actually do,” Stone avers, before adding that “Rulings by conservative justices in the past decade make it perfectly clear that they do not ‘apply the law’ in a neutral and detached manner.”
Instead of tackling this issue directly, I want to draw an analogy to religion.
Labels:
interpretation,
public theology
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Obama and American Muslims
President Obama has been reaching out quietly to American Muslims, reports the New York Times. The story explains the approach in the following terms:
In the post-9/11 era, Muslims and Arab-Americans have posed something of a conundrum for the government: they are seen as a political liability but also, increasingly, as an important partner in countering the threat of homegrown terrorism.
Obama's reaching out is good and sad at the same time.
Labels:
Muslims,
President Obama
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Obama, Israel, and Deep Narratives
The America-Israel Friendship League is worried about the relationship of Israel and the USA. AIFL sent a letter to President Obama on April 15, 2010. I'll be responding to this letter's reference to Israel's deeper historical founding, because this invokes a salvation history narrative that binds Israel and the United States together in powerful ways.
The immediate context of AIFL's letter is its (correct) perception of a "deteriorating relationship" between the US and Israel, sparked, as the letter acknowledges, by the announcement of construction in East Jerusalem during Vice President Biden's visit. The subtext of the letter points to a broader range of worries: that Obama is less committed than either Bush, Clinton, or Reagan was, that US policy will tilt toward the Palestinian Authority in an attempt to secure peace, and that the US will refuse to commit its full resources to Israel's security.
I am more interested, however, in the deeper history cited in the letter.
The Bible records (Second Book of Chronicles 36:23) that in his first year (516 BCE), Cyrus, the King of Persia (now Iran), in order to reverse the sacking of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon in 586 BCE, and to fulfill the prophesy of Jeremiah, proclaimed that he had been charged by the Lord to build a house in Jerusalem and to send the Jews in his kingdom to ''go up to Jerusalem, which is in Judah, and build the house of the Lord God of Israel (he is the God) which is in Jerusalem''. The Jewish claim to the Land of Israel originated long before the Holocaust and derives from the days of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Jesus, King David and the prophets. It has abided for more than 4,000 years and is reflected in the cry ''next year in Jerusalem'' which ends the Yom Kippur fast and Passover Seder. For most of those 4,000 years, Jews have lived in the Land of Israel in an unbroken chain with Jewish communities continually remaining in places like Jerusalem, Hebron and Safad.
The immediate meaning of the claims here is that Israel's claims on the land are not recent, that is, post-Holocaust. These claims predate 1948, the British Mandate of Palestine (1922), and the Balfour Declaration (1917). But the more important reference is the unspoken one: to the shared biblical heritage that binds the US and Israel.
In the United States, Israel is thought of by many--and perhaps most--voters through biblical categories. In this respect, Israel is unlike any other sovereign power, with perhaps the exception of America itself. Israel is a work of the Lord God, and it is widely thought to be a Christian duty to support her. Here is where the patriarchs walked, as the letter says, but here also is where the New Covenant, through Jesus, was formed. Here his disciples walked, and began baptizing in his name.
To those who do not know these narratives, many of the claims made about or on behalf of Israel must seem foolish. The AIFL letter is aware of the power of these narratives and thus knowingly invokes them.
It seems to me that our task is two-fold: those who do not understand the political significance of these narratives should learn it, and those who take these narratives as divinely inspired accounts should be encouraged to think critically about them. These are tall orders, but the Middle East conflict is perpetuated by political realists who dismiss the importance of these narratives and also by believers who are uncritical of their significance--and thus subject to being manipulated by those who are.
Labels:
AIFL,
Middle East,
President Obama
Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah
This performance of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah is worth listening to.... Cohen's influences are varied, but Judaism, Christianity, and Buddhism are among the most important. The lyrics of this song suggest that the praise of God is at work in all our deeds and misdeeds. I don't find debates about 'what Cohen really intended' to be very interesting, and I'm not suggesting this is the only interpretation.
My thinking about God frequently moves in this sort of non-dualistic direction, even though my background in religious ethics suggests that it is a possibly problematic theology. Ahh, these things are never easy.
Forget all this. Listen.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Vandalizing Christ in Rio
Tonight I am thinking about the vandalizing of Christ in Rio. Come now, some will insist, it's a statue, not Christ. In one way, that's true. But I am interested in the other way. Here's where my mind is being drawn...
My mind is being drawn to the defacing of Jesus of Nazareth, his crucifixion; and it's being drawn to that disturbing passage in Isaiah 52:14, which refers to the marred appearance of the suffering servant. It's bring drawn to Paul's 1 Corinthian portrayal of Christ, whose weakness and apparent foolishness are, he says, the power and wisdom of God. Seen in this light, the vandalizing of Christ in Rio seems a continuation of the crucifixion.
My mind is drawn to theological debates about the Eucharist: is it a token, a symbol, or a real presence? Even those who stress the memorial dimension of 'communion' are unlikely to treat the symbol too dismissively, and those who hold a stronger notion of real presence (Lutheran consubtantialists and Catholic transubstantialists, for example) most certainly would not. When I say Christ was vandalized in Rio, I'm betraying an attraction to the real presence account of Eucharist.
My mind is being drawn to art-inspired controversies surrounding Christ. I think of films such as The Last Temptation (1988) and Jesus of Montreal (1989), and of art such as Andres Serrano's Piss Christ (1987). For the record, I found each of these portrayals of Christ more satisfactory than Mel Gibson's The Passion of Christ (2004). Serrano's Piss Christ evokes from the worrisome filth of fleshly fluids a variety of possible meanings. In the crucifixion, this man of flesh and blood is God entering our filth. Arguably, this is a central motif in the Christian account of redemption. My fictional stories of Reverend Posh, over at Eclectica, deliberately dance on the edge of this abyss, where redemption and profanity intersect.
I am also thinking of the destruction by the Taliban of Buddhas in Bamiyan: not, I repeat, the destruction of statues of the Buddha, as if such a thing could exist. The awakened one does not begin, or cease, and is not a statue. The mind is calling other outrages: the Cartoons of Muhummad in Jyllands-Posten, the destruction of the Twin Towers, the publishing of The Satanic Verses and the fatwah against Salman Rushdie for authoring it.
I will conclude with this brief reflection on Christ. Christ's anointing is a singular reception of the disfiguring malice of human aggression. The Christian faith teaches that God's love is revealed, not extinguished or diminished, in Jesus's acceptance of this curse. Gazing upon the vandalized Christ in Rio reminds me just how strange a view that is.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Pope's Penance
Tonight I am pondering Pope Benedict's call for penance, but especially the victims of abuse and Roman Catholic ecclesial theology.
My first reaction is that this is terrible news, and it seems never-ending. Each year we learn of more victims, and in each instance it seems that authority structures within the Roman Catholic Church were either complicit or turned a blind eye to the abuses. What is most terrible, from my perspective, is the pain inflicted upon those who were abused. How many lives have been cut short? How many victims were forced to suffer in silence? It’s hard to fathom. The damage done to the Church also is significant, and I am not among those who rejoice in its failures.
United Church of Christ theologian Gabriel Fackre, one of my mentors at Andover Newton Theological School back in the late 1980s, is quoted in the Times article. “As churches, this hurts all of us,” he says. “We have our own history of abuses in Protestantism. So from an ecumenical standpoint, let those who are without sin cast the first stone.” In the sense in which Fackre means this, I agree. As a Reformation-oriented theologian, Fackre believes in judgment—God’s judgment, that is—but he also sees all institutions, individuals, powers and purposes as under the sway of sin. God’s grace, he holds, is what ultimately redeems us. None of that need prevent us from working for the reformation of harmful structures, and indeed it gives us a mandate to seek healing for victims.
An important question is what will happen within the Church. Will it undergo an internal reformation? Will it resist reformation and continue using its time honored modes and methods of dealing with the crisis? It's impossible to know. I do, however, think that the ecclesiology of the Catholic Church, which stresses the indefectibility of the institution, needs to be understood. On this view, Roman Catholic believers, including the highest officials within the Church, sin, but the Church itself is sinless. The Church is the body of Christ and is a sheer outpouring of God’s grace and love. We need not agree with this idea, but we should try to understand it. If we do, we will have a better handle on Papal pronouncements. We will better understand the challenges facing the Church, and we will see its traditionalism as something more than resistance to new ideas and practices.
But none of this should lead us to forget the victims. Church authorities—and not the indefectible Church of Catholic theology—will continue to face civil litigation and criminal prosecution. If I might yield for a moment to convictions inspired by my Protestant background, the time seems right for someone to write a theology of the Church as perpetrator. Were it done well, such a treatment might also show the Church as healer, victim, and neighbor.
Labels:
Benedict XVI,
Catholics,
penance
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Twelver Shi'ism and Iranian Politics
Today I am thinking about political shifts in Iran.
Iran—remember the hope for dialogue expressed by Obama during the presidential campaign, and the derision heaped upon him by the McCain camp? The Obama administration has tried to open channels for dialogue, but with very little success. At least in terms of the effect, McCain seems to have been right. The recent New York Times article about Iran’s parliament illustrates the fundamentally enigmatic quality of Iran. I am unsure at this point what to make of this opacity.
I believe that some states—North Korea, for example—are fundamentally irrational. North Korea seems trapped in the fantastic and malignant worldview of Kim Jong Il. Back in the 1980s, Muammar Qadhafi’s Libya teetered on the edge of such insanity. It recently has moved in the direction of normalcy. Hugo Chavez seems inclined to push Venezuela toward insanity. In each case here—and one could add Hitler’s Germany, Idi Amin Dada’s Uganda, and Poppa Doc Duvalier’s Haiti—an insane leader lies at the heart of the problem.
Other states may be enigmatic without being irrational: that is, we simply may not have understood their motivations. Thus they appear to be irrational but are instead rationally motivated with respect to their conception of the world. Arguably, the former Soviet Union was of this sort: its Gulag, Iron Curtain, and centrally controlled economy were rational, given a Marxist-Leninist approach to revolution and history. The same might be said of China’s Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and 70s: from a certain vantage this disastrous and terrible policy made sense or was at least consistent with a conception of the world. The difference between outright irrationalism and an opaque rationality is that the latter can be understood, with effort, from the perspective of another, whereas the former is sealed off from all other perspectives.
The question with respect to Iran is whether it is irrational (self-injurious, sealed off from the perspectives of all others) or motivated by a conception of the world that we Westerners have yet to penetrate. My hunch is that the latter is the case, and I would further suggest that the prevailing realist approach to political analysis obscures the importance of cultural and religious factors in political motivation. In the case of Iran, a realist analysis obscures the religious rationality at work with Iranian politics and society.
I am not at this point prepared to offer a full-scale interpretation of Iran, but I would suggest that the following two topics are important. First, in terms of political realism: the United States destabilized Iran by invading Iraq and decapitating the state. I was no fan of Saddam Hussein, but he was a secular Sunni, who hated the Shi’ites of Iran. His regime also suppressed the majority Iraqi Shi’ites, whose stored up anger has now been released. Second, we must give thought to the distinctive characteristics of Twelver Shi’ism. According to the Twelvers, the twelfth Imam—the Mahdi—has gone into hiding, the so-called occultation. It may surprise Christians to learn that the Mahdi will join Jesus in descending from heaven to rule earth, but that is the Twelver point of view. Melody Moezzi has an interesting article about this at the Huffington Post. All of the religious and political elites of Iran must negotiate this Shi’ite conception of reality in some way, much the same as American political candidates need to have some way of expressing their conception of God.
Where does this leave us? My suggestion is that we continue to seek to understand the rational structure of Iran’s actions, statements, and political shifts. That will require a religious, cultural, and historical as well as political and economic analysis. Such a multifactorial analysis will not, of course, require that we accept these actions. Since Iran is continuing to pursue a nuclear agenda, and Holocaust denying and Israel hating are encouraged, we must be prepared to act decisively. Let us hope that deeper understanding leads to a lasting peace, but let us remain vigilant as we seek to understand.
Iran—remember the hope for dialogue expressed by Obama during the presidential campaign, and the derision heaped upon him by the McCain camp? The Obama administration has tried to open channels for dialogue, but with very little success. At least in terms of the effect, McCain seems to have been right. The recent New York Times article about Iran’s parliament illustrates the fundamentally enigmatic quality of Iran. I am unsure at this point what to make of this opacity.
I believe that some states—North Korea, for example—are fundamentally irrational. North Korea seems trapped in the fantastic and malignant worldview of Kim Jong Il. Back in the 1980s, Muammar Qadhafi’s Libya teetered on the edge of such insanity. It recently has moved in the direction of normalcy. Hugo Chavez seems inclined to push Venezuela toward insanity. In each case here—and one could add Hitler’s Germany, Idi Amin Dada’s Uganda, and Poppa Doc Duvalier’s Haiti—an insane leader lies at the heart of the problem.
Other states may be enigmatic without being irrational: that is, we simply may not have understood their motivations. Thus they appear to be irrational but are instead rationally motivated with respect to their conception of the world. Arguably, the former Soviet Union was of this sort: its Gulag, Iron Curtain, and centrally controlled economy were rational, given a Marxist-Leninist approach to revolution and history. The same might be said of China’s Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and 70s: from a certain vantage this disastrous and terrible policy made sense or was at least consistent with a conception of the world. The difference between outright irrationalism and an opaque rationality is that the latter can be understood, with effort, from the perspective of another, whereas the former is sealed off from all other perspectives.
The question with respect to Iran is whether it is irrational (self-injurious, sealed off from the perspectives of all others) or motivated by a conception of the world that we Westerners have yet to penetrate. My hunch is that the latter is the case, and I would further suggest that the prevailing realist approach to political analysis obscures the importance of cultural and religious factors in political motivation. In the case of Iran, a realist analysis obscures the religious rationality at work with Iranian politics and society.
I am not at this point prepared to offer a full-scale interpretation of Iran, but I would suggest that the following two topics are important. First, in terms of political realism: the United States destabilized Iran by invading Iraq and decapitating the state. I was no fan of Saddam Hussein, but he was a secular Sunni, who hated the Shi’ites of Iran. His regime also suppressed the majority Iraqi Shi’ites, whose stored up anger has now been released. Second, we must give thought to the distinctive characteristics of Twelver Shi’ism. According to the Twelvers, the twelfth Imam—the Mahdi—has gone into hiding, the so-called occultation. It may surprise Christians to learn that the Mahdi will join Jesus in descending from heaven to rule earth, but that is the Twelver point of view. Melody Moezzi has an interesting article about this at the Huffington Post. All of the religious and political elites of Iran must negotiate this Shi’ite conception of reality in some way, much the same as American political candidates need to have some way of expressing their conception of God.
Where does this leave us? My suggestion is that we continue to seek to understand the rational structure of Iran’s actions, statements, and political shifts. That will require a religious, cultural, and historical as well as political and economic analysis. Such a multifactorial analysis will not, of course, require that we accept these actions. Since Iran is continuing to pursue a nuclear agenda, and Holocaust denying and Israel hating are encouraged, we must be prepared to act decisively. Let us hope that deeper understanding leads to a lasting peace, but let us remain vigilant as we seek to understand.
Fish(ers) of Men?
Stanley Fish's New York Times essay about Jürgen Habermas, the noted German philosopher, partly alleviates a worry that I occasionally have (i.e., that we have become incapable of sustaining important conversations). Fish's essay is difficult for a newspaper column, but I find it encouraging that he addresses the issue of secularism.
In responding to Habermas, Fish drills into one of the most significant intellectual, political, and philosophical-theological issues of our time. In sum, he asks whether secular reason (as exercised in science or put in play within liberal democracy) is sufficient, or whether it needs to be buttressed by some infusion of religion. Habermas has been moving toward a greater openness to religion, but he hopes to fully preserve the achievements of secular reason. Fish ultimately is not convinced by Habermas's approach, but for now I want to leave that judgment aside.
I am more interested in Habermas's concern. Is it possible to develop religiously significant and theologically astute positions within a civil society characterized by pluralism and committed to religious liberty? By asking this question, I am assuming that the conversation we sustain in civil society will exert pressure on and ultimately determine the kind of politics we embrace. I think we can sponsor such conversations, but if I am correct, they will be only partly like the kinds of conversations held in most churches and other venues of prayer, meditation, and religious community. Conversations of this latter sort are important in their own way (as nourishment to believers), but we need a conversation that explores more basic issues--and does so in a context in which the 'answers' are in dispute.
Max Stackhouse, who taught for many years at Andover Newton Theological School and Princeton Theological Seminary, argues that we need to develop a public theology. By this, he means that "the whole people of God" need to give sustained attention to furthering truly open religious dialogue and truth seeking. That requires developing arguments while remaining open and inquisitive. It requires making judgments that are informed by all available evidence. And it requires willingness to revise our positions as we consider new options. A public theology of this sort would be pursued not just in churches and seminaries but in the public sphere, by all who wish to join the conversation. Many assume that this is asking too much because the passions induced by religion make conversation impossible.
I think Stackhouse, and others like him, are correct. There is no doubt that religion occasionally drives some to madness, but significant religious conversations are possible much of the time. If we have been led to believe otherwise, we have been misled. In fact, there is a fairly obvious paternalism in the view that only trained religious specialists, philosophers, and theologians can discuss significant religious topics.
A point for further reflection is the source or sources of this juvenilization. Who benefits when people are erroneously convinced that they should avoid serious thinking and sustained conversations about religious significant topics? And who loses?
In responding to Habermas, Fish drills into one of the most significant intellectual, political, and philosophical-theological issues of our time. In sum, he asks whether secular reason (as exercised in science or put in play within liberal democracy) is sufficient, or whether it needs to be buttressed by some infusion of religion. Habermas has been moving toward a greater openness to religion, but he hopes to fully preserve the achievements of secular reason. Fish ultimately is not convinced by Habermas's approach, but for now I want to leave that judgment aside.
I am more interested in Habermas's concern. Is it possible to develop religiously significant and theologically astute positions within a civil society characterized by pluralism and committed to religious liberty? By asking this question, I am assuming that the conversation we sustain in civil society will exert pressure on and ultimately determine the kind of politics we embrace. I think we can sponsor such conversations, but if I am correct, they will be only partly like the kinds of conversations held in most churches and other venues of prayer, meditation, and religious community. Conversations of this latter sort are important in their own way (as nourishment to believers), but we need a conversation that explores more basic issues--and does so in a context in which the 'answers' are in dispute.
Max Stackhouse, who taught for many years at Andover Newton Theological School and Princeton Theological Seminary, argues that we need to develop a public theology. By this, he means that "the whole people of God" need to give sustained attention to furthering truly open religious dialogue and truth seeking. That requires developing arguments while remaining open and inquisitive. It requires making judgments that are informed by all available evidence. And it requires willingness to revise our positions as we consider new options. A public theology of this sort would be pursued not just in churches and seminaries but in the public sphere, by all who wish to join the conversation. Many assume that this is asking too much because the passions induced by religion make conversation impossible.
I think Stackhouse, and others like him, are correct. There is no doubt that religion occasionally drives some to madness, but significant religious conversations are possible much of the time. If we have been led to believe otherwise, we have been misled. In fact, there is a fairly obvious paternalism in the view that only trained religious specialists, philosophers, and theologians can discuss significant religious topics.
A point for further reflection is the source or sources of this juvenilization. Who benefits when people are erroneously convinced that they should avoid serious thinking and sustained conversations about religious significant topics? And who loses?
Labels:
interpretation,
Liberalism,
public theology
Monday, April 12, 2010
Promoting democracy in thought, word, and deed
Today, I'm reading about the burqa ban in Belgium.
It put me to mind of an essay I wrote a few years ago.
Here it is...
Promoting democracy in thought, word, and deed
The best strategy for promoting democracy abroad is leading by example here at home and adhering to worthy values in foreign affairs. If we abide by our most ennobling traditions and practices, we will be in a better position to commend what John Courtney Murray (using Lincoln ’s phrase) once called the “American proposition.” Defending the exemplary status of institutions and values guiding American democracy may seem audacious in this historical moment, especially vis-à-vis Islamic states, but this approach is less condescending than alleging that Islam inherently prevents democratic transformation. An exemplarist approach also is more likely to produce longer term solutions than those garnered through machination and regime change.
For the exemplarist approach to be credible, we must rethink the eighteenth century philosophical vocabulary that has long been incorporated into our common idiom and national self-consciousness. We must defend the American proposition’s church-state separation but distinguish it from French secularism, and we must articulate the historical basis of our institutions but show their importance to others. This kind of conversation may well come into conflict with our native anti-intellectualism, but it will produce a relevant exchange and enliven our approach to foreign affairs.
Holding that democracy is inherently universal leads us to ignore the social and historical conditions conducive to forming sustainable democracies. Further, our political Esperanto often avoids defending the exemplary nature of American democracy. Few indeed wish to be pegged as hewing to the doctrine of American exceptionalism. Whatever the reason for denying the exemplary nature of our practices and principles, it is a sociological, historical, and political mistake. Our commitment to values that can and are being adopted by others is the best thing we have to offer the world. If we commend American democracy as exemplary, we will be more inclined to honor our core principles and less inclined to justify politically adventurous strategies for promoting democracy. We will need to seek deeper understanding of our traditions and be willing to rethink their significance. That behind a mask of bravado we secretly suspect the American proposition is not worthy of emulation reveals our failure to grasp the significance of our historical, philosophical, and religious traditions.
Enlightenment thinkers argued that freedom and equality were inherent within human nature. Their arguments were intended to promote change within regimes and, failing that, to justify revolution and regime change. Though these claims are part of our treasured heritage, we must find more socio-historically attuned modes of commending democratic structures. A historical approach reveals that American democracy emerged out of prior social and religious circumstances. Our seventeenth century forebears sought religious purity, a more thoroughgoing reformation of the Church, not freedom. Freedom was important, not as an end in itself, but as a means for seeking to worship God. Established churches were sponsored by a number of American colonies. Massachusetts disestablished the Congregational Church only in 1833. The eighteenth century divines distorted, even as they appropriated and honored, the Puritan quest to inhabit a new Jerusalem. As the German historian Ernst Troeltsch argued, free church Calvinism (those groups that deliberately separated from national and state churches) ushered in a range of proto-democratic sensibilities and practices. In America , this practice led to developing democratic structures and principles in a religiously vibrant civil society, prior to the founding of the republic, and a strong tendency toward disestablishment at the federal level from the founding. The circumscription of politics by institutions and groups in civil society—the most powerful basis of limited government—is an essential feature of democratic practice. There is no more sure way of commending it than through example.
If the American example is worthy of following by Islamic states, American political practice must be shown to be compatible with vital Islamic religion and related forms of social life. The clauses of the First Amendment prohibiting Congress from making law “respecting an establishment of religion” or “prohibiting the free exercise thereof” suggest that the founders applied universal premises in light of historical practices. The coupled clauses engender a dynamic approach. The establishment clause distinguishes the American model from Continental democracies, which tend to have established churches or the vestiges thereof. The free exercise clause sets the American model apart from the secularist French (and Turkish) approaches. Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na`im, the noted Islamic scholar and human rights theorist at Emory University School of Law, has argued in Islam and the Secular State that Shari`a is likely to be more vital in a secular state, where this means that government is neutral, but not hostile, toward religion. An-Na`im holds the minority view among Muslims, but the widespread assumption that Islam is inherently undemocratic (so-called Muslim exceptionalism) shows both limited understanding of religious change and failure to grasp the religiously informed foundations of American democracy.
In addition to the role played by religion, some theorists point out that Islamic societies have a paucity of free civil institutions, wrenching poverty, low levels of education, high birth rates and youthful populations, and traditions of political authoritarianism. These formidable difficulties suggest that democratic political institutions are unlikely to be sustainable without broader transformation. Fareed Zakaria is correct, at least in this respect, to alert us to the dangers of “illiberal democracy.” Our best hope is to continue showing that a robust civil society limits politics, offers people a non-governmental realm of association, brokers demands of pluralism while resisting anomie, and furthers social and cultural development. As An-Na`im suggests, those roles can be played by Some Christians also have needed to unlearn antagonism toward democratic institutions. John Courtney Murray convinced most Roman Catholics that the American proposition is superior to the integralism championed by Cardinal Alfredo Ottaviani. The integralists supported toleration when they were in the minority but suppressed doctrinal errors when they gained the majority. Murray showed that this view was theologically and philosophically flawed, and that it was dependent upon a false conception of reason and social order. The Roman Catholic Church once inveighed against modernism, but it now broadly promotes core ideas of democracy. Holding that Islam is less corrigible than Christianity is tantamount to bigotry.
The American proposition proffers a state neutral toward religions, not a champion of secularism. The concept of secular government is a major challenge in conversing with Muslims. Abdou Filali-Ansary, director of Aga Khan University Institute for the Study of Muslim Civilisations in London, has pointed out that nineteenth century Islamic modernist Jamal-Eddin al-Afghani translated the word ‘secular’ as dahriyin (atheist) in replying to Ernst Renan’s criticism of Islam. Though the translation was later modified, its occurrence led many Muslim thinkers to see the words secular and atheism as identical. In her excellent book The Roads to Modernity, Gertrude Himmelfarb provides a historical analysis to further understand distinctions involved in al-Afghani’s translation. She shows that British and Scottish moral philosophers built upon the common moral sense of people to further enlightenment focused on virtue. The American Enlightenment especially promoted liberty. Himmelfarb shows, on the other hand, that French philosophes sponsored a radically monist concept of reason, wherein political reason was absolute. There was no domain from which to question the authority of political reason. This idea culminates in the French Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen and continues to resonate in the 1905 “Law concerning the separation of Church and State.” This sort of secularism is most strongly resisted by many Muslims—and embraced by a surprising number of others. As the recent case of “Madame M” and the head scarf controversy shows, secularist understandings continue to have negative outcomes for French Muslims.
Though there is much to admire about Samuel Huntington’s The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order, ultimately his defense of regionalism is unwise. Huntington ’s claims about the West can be sharpened by Himmelfarb’s analysis. He correctly claims that liberalism is less universal than it alleges, but our historically derived exemplary practice can and ought to be promoted broadly. Surely we should be tactful and humble in commending the American proposition. And if our example is followed, clearly it will be adapted and modified. Huntington ’s insights about the historically particular elements of democracy, coupled with his view of the salience of culture in the post-Cold War world, are essential. Yet ultimately promotion of democracy is a responsibility that we should not forsake.
A bevy of best selling authors—Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens, and Richard Dawkins, among others—would have us believe that religion and reason are fatal enemies. Their arguments are relevant here insofar as Christianity and Islam are their most frequent targets. On their view, both of these religions are incompatible with sane governance. These authors advocate rationalism not unlike the kind promoted by philosophes. Harris, Hitchens, Dawkins, and those of their ilk do not grasp the significance of the American approach, which, as Christian ethicist Max Stackhouse has shown, qualifies reason with openness to religion and liberalizes religion through the exercise of reason. However embarrassing our religious traditions, leaders, and institutions can sometimes be, their vitality is a primary source of our strength. The religious qualification and limitation of politics is a source of our social genius, even if at times religions lead us to embrace the manifestly unintelligent. If An-Na`im, Filali-Ansary, and scholars such as Khaled Abou El Fadl are correct, Islam has deep resources for promoting societies that will press for and sustain democracies in predominantly Islamic lands.
Reclaiming our example will require confronting American anti-intellectualism, rooted religiously in Evangelical traditions and rendered philosophically by pragmatism. To rethink the meaning of the American proposition will require engaging the history and ideas entailed in institutions and practices of religious and political liberty. We Americans have not on the whole engaged in sustained conversation about our core principles and practices, and our political leaders have not always represented them well in either domestic or foreign policy. It would be globally beneficial were that to change. As a people, we have the power to demand it. In our groups and associations, we have the wherewithal to sponsor this sort of enquiry. Islam also has anti-intellectual tendencies admixed with capacity for growth, inclusion, tolerance, and dialogue. The example we should set is one that provides evidence that a religion freed from political manipulation is more capable of seeking truth and promoting reason.
An exemplarist approach will be credible if we pursue this conversation at home with candor and promote it abroad with humility. We have not always set a worthy example, but our failures ought not prevent us from reclaiming a democracy alive in thought, word, and deed.
Labels:
democracy,
Liberalism,
public theology,
Puritans
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Tiger Woods, Sin, and Redemption
Today I'll offer a different kind of reflection.
I'm thinking about Tiger Woods. We know now that he did not win the Augusta National. We learned some time ago about the failures of his personal life.
As the news broke, and the details became more and more lurid, I began to think about sin. Not Tiger's, by the way. I was more interested in the social reaction--including mine--to the news. The reaction seemed to combine every possible sin: our not-so-hidden delight that he was outed, our phony defense of his actions, our wondering whether there was not some problem in the marriage... And on and on. To me, those reactions seemed more illustrative of sin--if the word means anything--than TW's transgressions. The desire to gawk, I think it's safe to say, increased the pain experienced by Elin Nordegren. Little matter, we wanted to know what he had done. We craved every detail.
Now he's back golfing, and we seem to want TW to redeem himself by winning. If he wins, we have evidence, we imagine, that he put this episode behind him. Perhaps we're also trying to reconnect to the TW we believed in: the great, unblemished golfer. Neither strategy will work, but we will take what we can get. Too bad for us, too bad for him. When it comes to redemption, we're left with a double bogey.
I'm thinking about Tiger Woods. We know now that he did not win the Augusta National. We learned some time ago about the failures of his personal life.
As the news broke, and the details became more and more lurid, I began to think about sin. Not Tiger's, by the way. I was more interested in the social reaction--including mine--to the news. The reaction seemed to combine every possible sin: our not-so-hidden delight that he was outed, our phony defense of his actions, our wondering whether there was not some problem in the marriage... And on and on. To me, those reactions seemed more illustrative of sin--if the word means anything--than TW's transgressions. The desire to gawk, I think it's safe to say, increased the pain experienced by Elin Nordegren. Little matter, we wanted to know what he had done. We craved every detail.
Now he's back golfing, and we seem to want TW to redeem himself by winning. If he wins, we have evidence, we imagine, that he put this episode behind him. Perhaps we're also trying to reconnect to the TW we believed in: the great, unblemished golfer. Neither strategy will work, but we will take what we can get. Too bad for us, too bad for him. When it comes to redemption, we're left with a double bogey.
Labels:
sin
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Al-Qaida and Hutaree
I'm reading these articles just about as I'm preparing to make a shot on the goal.
Al-qaida offers this.
FIFA: World Cup terrorist threat made - News - FOX Sports on MSN
Then there's the Hutaree. Refuting Islamophobia Under Hutaree's Un-Christian Shadow - Zahra Khan
There are similarities between these groups: hate for existing political structures, means characterized by terror and madness, and belief in the righteousness of their own cause. My guess is that both groups are addicted to modern technologies, just as we are: cell phones, GPS, the Internet, etc. But wouldn’t it be interesting to invite them to the same tea? My guess is that their differences would become manifest. God is in the details! Or rather, the construal of God is in the details.
Okay, I didn’t score a point with this shot. Let’s keep passing the ball!
Al-qaida offers this.
FIFA: World Cup terrorist threat made - News - FOX Sports on MSN
Then there's the Hutaree. Refuting Islamophobia Under Hutaree's Un-Christian Shadow - Zahra Khan
There are similarities between these groups: hate for existing political structures, means characterized by terror and madness, and belief in the righteousness of their own cause. My guess is that both groups are addicted to modern technologies, just as we are: cell phones, GPS, the Internet, etc. But wouldn’t it be interesting to invite them to the same tea? My guess is that their differences would become manifest. God is in the details! Or rather, the construal of God is in the details.
Okay, I didn’t score a point with this shot. Let’s keep passing the ball!
Friday, April 9, 2010
Jim Shelton's New Haven Register series
I'll begin my comments with a brief reflection on Jim Shelton's series on 'Islam in New Haven.' Especially check out the multimedia piece with Brad Horrigan's photos.
This type of work is very welcome, of course. It is telling and sad that some readers move in a bigoted direction. Says one, "These groups typically hate the Western world, why would you do a piece about them? After the Fort Hood incident, I believe that you should not waste your ink for these type of groups..." Others respond to defend Islam or to denounce such hate.
Perhaps in the blogosphere it's impossible to have reasoned inquiry, but I want to encourage careful thinking. Islam is not one thing, and Muslims hold a range of views. Some are pro-Western; some are anti-Western. Some yearn for democracy; some see it as the work of the devil. Some claim to practice democracy, but show no real commitment to it. Others are better people than you'll find in most Christian churches, and yet others have declared Jihad against the good ole USA. No one would expect every Christian to believe the same thing or endorse identical practices, yet many insist that Islam is 'all this' or 'all that.' It's neither, of course, but it's certainly RITN (religion in the news).
This type of work is very welcome, of course. It is telling and sad that some readers move in a bigoted direction. Says one, "These groups typically hate the Western world, why would you do a piece about them? After the Fort Hood incident, I believe that you should not waste your ink for these type of groups..." Others respond to defend Islam or to denounce such hate.
Perhaps in the blogosphere it's impossible to have reasoned inquiry, but I want to encourage careful thinking. Islam is not one thing, and Muslims hold a range of views. Some are pro-Western; some are anti-Western. Some yearn for democracy; some see it as the work of the devil. Some claim to practice democracy, but show no real commitment to it. Others are better people than you'll find in most Christian churches, and yet others have declared Jihad against the good ole USA. No one would expect every Christian to believe the same thing or endorse identical practices, yet many insist that Islam is 'all this' or 'all that.' It's neither, of course, but it's certainly RITN (religion in the news).
Religion in the News
This blog will be dedicated to commenting on religion in the news. Some of the comments will be of a more theoretical nature (e.g., what is 'religion'? is secularism becoming dominant?), and yet others will reflect on events that are not explicitly religious. But most comments will be reactions to published news about religion.
The major contention is that 'religion' is one of the most powerful forces that is shaping our world. As a force, I contend that it is multivalent: the goods it contributes are many, but the evils it works are undeniable.
Let's see what the news brings...
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