Simon Barrow continues to be on target with his commentary on contemporary public debate about morals and values.
I like the following passage from a column that he wrote for the Guardian recently discussing a BBC poll which found that 83% of people in Britain thought that society was experiencing moral decline.
One of the galvanising agents for this used to be religion, something that has clearly shrunk in terms of affiliation and receded as a shaping force in social life in modern Britain. It is interesting, therefore, that while nearly a third of people reject religious purpose as having a constructive role in moral formation, 62% still say it can be a guide for us.
Because "religion", in a plural society, invariably takes many shapes and sizes - a fact that spiritual hardliners and new wave God-bashers alike tend to ignore - it is hard to determine what this actually means, short of a generalised yearning for more "rooted values": things such as a concrete feeling of social obligation to neighbours, personal rather than purely instrumental reason, civility, a sense that freedom requires the cultivation of self-restraint, and the nurturing of traditional commitments (in contrast to "the contract culture").
However it is equally evident that institutional religion (the kind that grew up under Christendom's alliance of church and governing authority) finally failed to deliver such things. By imposing its interests, it took away people's ability to develop a deeper moral sensibility, something that grows out of voluntary mutuality rather than rule-based prescription.
So where from here? The inchoate sense that "something is wrong" soon collapses into a welter of different hypotheses and prescriptions. The clinical psychologist Oliver James terms the problem "affluenza"; John Gray blames too much idealism; Richard Dawkins points accusingly at a tide of irrationalism and residual superstition; Zealous Christians and Muslims believe their way is the only one; and politicians of all parties fail to persuade many of us that they hold the managerial key to a better life in a post-ideological environment.
In these circumstances, trying to reach some theoretical "moral consensus" is increasingly unpromising, and talk of "shared values" rapidly becomes vacuous. What creates commonality is not an idea of "community", which we are then expected to inhabit, but concrete and realisable deeds that point in the directions we want to go. We act, therefore we are.
So, in the face of violence, we need more people willing to experiment with non-violence and take risks for peace. Confronted with selfishness, we need those who can cultivate new possibilities of sharing. To combat xenophobia, we need gestures of hospitality. Instead of waste, we need more people willing to conserve. Where bitterness disables us, we need forgiveness, and so on.
I'm not suggesting that such voluntary "alternative" behaviour diminishes the need for large-scale structural action to combat the gross moral affronts of poverty, war, terror, environmental destruction, sexual abuse, and so on; rather, that a culture of civic action creates the climate for pressing collective responsibility."
This is a passage that could usefully be thought about by leaders from the conservative wings of the Christian church before opening thei mouths in public on the issue of perceived moral decline. Much of their commentary around this topic betrays a wistfulness for a Christendom approach and top down solutions.
Sunday, 16 September 2007
Indigenous Stolen Wages
ANTAR have just released a national survey, Hard Labour, Stolen Wages: National Report on Stolen Wages by Dr Rosalind Kidd that provides a comprehensive survey on what is known about indignous stolen wages in every state and territory.
Ther report can be downloaded for free from the ANTAR website. Read it get angry and chase your local member on the issue.
Each chapter of the report provides a narrative account of the history of controls over indigenous people particularly as it related to their participation in the labour market and what is known about the handling of funds that were managed by pastroal stations, missions, other employers and the state and territory governments.
The detailed account of the conditions of near slavery and the fraud, mismanagement of funds, negligence by public officials and cost shifting by state governments, witholding of Commonwealth govrnment payments to individuals and using those funds to reduce state expenditure on spport of indigenous communities is worthy of the wrath and vocabulary of an Old Testament prophet. Micah or Amos could probably do a good job on this issue. There is an unbelievable amount of grist for their mill in this report.
"In 1934 the government was notified that ex-workers were starving to d death, but it refused to supply rations arguing this was the responsibility of station management" (p.73)
The amount of money that has been ripped out of the indigenous community over the past two centuries cannot be calculated precisely but is likely to run into several hundreds of millions of dollars at bare minimum and probably several times that amount.
And now we are heading off again down the track of government withholding payments to indigenous people. If the lack of recognition of the history of this sort of enterprise were not a matter so laden in pain and marinated in suffering for the indigenous community there might be space for black humour. History repeats itself (Marx said, I think) first as tragedy and then as farce, or was it the other way around?
Ther report can be downloaded for free from the ANTAR website. Read it get angry and chase your local member on the issue.
Each chapter of the report provides a narrative account of the history of controls over indigenous people particularly as it related to their participation in the labour market and what is known about the handling of funds that were managed by pastroal stations, missions, other employers and the state and territory governments.
The detailed account of the conditions of near slavery and the fraud, mismanagement of funds, negligence by public officials and cost shifting by state governments, witholding of Commonwealth govrnment payments to individuals and using those funds to reduce state expenditure on spport of indigenous communities is worthy of the wrath and vocabulary of an Old Testament prophet. Micah or Amos could probably do a good job on this issue. There is an unbelievable amount of grist for their mill in this report.
"In 1934 the government was notified that ex-workers were starving to d death, but it refused to supply rations arguing this was the responsibility of station management" (p.73)
The amount of money that has been ripped out of the indigenous community over the past two centuries cannot be calculated precisely but is likely to run into several hundreds of millions of dollars at bare minimum and probably several times that amount.
And now we are heading off again down the track of government withholding payments to indigenous people. If the lack of recognition of the history of this sort of enterprise were not a matter so laden in pain and marinated in suffering for the indigenous community there might be space for black humour. History repeats itself (Marx said, I think) first as tragedy and then as farce, or was it the other way around?
Saturday, 15 September 2007
Iraq
The following comments from Simon Barrow's excellent blog Faith inSociety.
I am still workng out how to get the links to work - using the Safari browser seems to be part of the problem. Working on switching to Firefox
Doug
Monday, September 10, 2007
TURNING THE TIDE IN IRAQ?
Getting Iraq’s war surge to trickle towards peace (Ekklesia, 10 September 2007) Talk of the efficacy or otherwise of the US 'surge' is a smokescreen, says Simon Barrow. There is no long-term military solution to Iraq’s nightmare. But behind the scenes viable alternatives are being sought within civil society - and in conversation with those who have faced the uphill tasks of peace and justice in Ireland and South Africa.
The Daily Star in Lebanon adds: Ironically, Al-Qaeda in Iraq faces some of the same dilemmas as coalition forces in Iraq, though there is certainly no moral equivalency between the two. Both are driven by ideologies that are for the most part alien particularly to Sunni tribal sheikhs. Neither advocates of Western-style democracy nor the champions of strict Islamic orthodoxy offer an appealing vision for Iraq's future. Both sides are led by foreigners and viewed by a majority of Iraqis as occupiers, not liberators. Both are condemned for what is viewed by locals as the indiscriminate killing and brutalization of a civilian population caught in the crossfire of a conflict over which they have little say. Both are well financed and view Iraq as the battlefield for a global struggle that leaves no room for compromise.
I am still workng out how to get the links to work - using the Safari browser seems to be part of the problem. Working on switching to Firefox
Doug
Monday, September 10, 2007
TURNING THE TIDE IN IRAQ?
Getting Iraq’s war surge to trickle towards peace (Ekklesia, 10 September 2007) Talk of the efficacy or otherwise of the US 'surge' is a smokescreen, says Simon Barrow. There is no long-term military solution to Iraq’s nightmare. But behind the scenes viable alternatives are being sought within civil society - and in conversation with those who have faced the uphill tasks of peace and justice in Ireland and South Africa.
The Daily Star in Lebanon adds: Ironically, Al-Qaeda in Iraq faces some of the same dilemmas as coalition forces in Iraq, though there is certainly no moral equivalency between the two. Both are driven by ideologies that are for the most part alien particularly to Sunni tribal sheikhs. Neither advocates of Western-style democracy nor the champions of strict Islamic orthodoxy offer an appealing vision for Iraq's future. Both sides are led by foreigners and viewed by a majority of Iraqis as occupiers, not liberators. Both are condemned for what is viewed by locals as the indiscriminate killing and brutalization of a civilian population caught in the crossfire of a conflict over which they have little say. Both are well financed and view Iraq as the battlefield for a global struggle that leaves no room for compromise.
Sunday, 9 September 2007
SIEV X memorial - grieving, art and affirming a common humanity
The memorial to the people who died in the sinking of the SIEV X in 2001 has been erected again, for six weeks in Weston Park in Canberra.
The location iof the memorial is on a long finger of parkland fringed by the lake. Each person who died when the SIEV X went down is represented by a pole with artwork, a label of the name of the person, where known (AFP are still not releasing the names of some of the victims), and the name of the group who provided the artwork.
I went out there this morning with my wife who had been present and deeply moved on the previous occasion when this memorial had been erected.
To walk along the line of the poles up the hill from the lake's edge, reading the names on the memorial and responding to the artwork on each pole was a profoundly moving experience. I was reduced to tears.
The background of tall gums, the cheerful call of crimson rosellas and the imposing presence of Black Mountain provided a reflective and respectful setting to remember the deaths of these asylum seekers. Leaving aside the question as to whether political considerations made the difference between living or dying for the people on this boat (noting that the event took place in the run up to a Federal election in 2001 that gave us the Tampa and the 'children overboard' affair), something happened for me as I walked from pole to pole.
I was struck by the reality of each pole as an acknowledgement by Australians of shared humanity and a willingness to join in the act of grieving and of giving these people the dignity of being remembered, through the works of art that were carefully and lovingly prepared by children in schools,students in university colleges, by church communities and community groups families and neighbourhoods across the country.
In a world of abstractions for which we are called to struggle, democracy, australian values and of which we are called to be afraid such as terrorism, 'boat people" and given the overwhelming large numbers of people suffering from poverty, terror and violence, whether at the hands of non-state actors, or states, those officially authorised to kill, there was here a moment of naming and acknowledging the reality of individual human beings.
The quality of attention that was paid by the peopel who prepared these poles was astonishing in the diversity of style and the care paid to the paintings and mosaics.
One pole in particular caught the attention of both my wife and myself. Included in the painting was the following proverb:
"How do we know when it is dawn?
When we have enough light to recognise
in the face of a stranger ... that of our sister."
Indeed.
That proverb seems an appropriate summary of what the memorial was all about.
Those who designed this memorial and those who painted the poles had enough light to recognise, in a time of public and political darkness and moral confusion, that in the face of these strangers there were the faces of our brothers and sisters.
The location iof the memorial is on a long finger of parkland fringed by the lake. Each person who died when the SIEV X went down is represented by a pole with artwork, a label of the name of the person, where known (AFP are still not releasing the names of some of the victims), and the name of the group who provided the artwork.
I went out there this morning with my wife who had been present and deeply moved on the previous occasion when this memorial had been erected.
To walk along the line of the poles up the hill from the lake's edge, reading the names on the memorial and responding to the artwork on each pole was a profoundly moving experience. I was reduced to tears.
The background of tall gums, the cheerful call of crimson rosellas and the imposing presence of Black Mountain provided a reflective and respectful setting to remember the deaths of these asylum seekers. Leaving aside the question as to whether political considerations made the difference between living or dying for the people on this boat (noting that the event took place in the run up to a Federal election in 2001 that gave us the Tampa and the 'children overboard' affair), something happened for me as I walked from pole to pole.
I was struck by the reality of each pole as an acknowledgement by Australians of shared humanity and a willingness to join in the act of grieving and of giving these people the dignity of being remembered, through the works of art that were carefully and lovingly prepared by children in schools,students in university colleges, by church communities and community groups families and neighbourhoods across the country.
In a world of abstractions for which we are called to struggle, democracy, australian values and of which we are called to be afraid such as terrorism, 'boat people" and given the overwhelming large numbers of people suffering from poverty, terror and violence, whether at the hands of non-state actors, or states, those officially authorised to kill, there was here a moment of naming and acknowledging the reality of individual human beings.
The quality of attention that was paid by the peopel who prepared these poles was astonishing in the diversity of style and the care paid to the paintings and mosaics.
One pole in particular caught the attention of both my wife and myself. Included in the painting was the following proverb:
"How do we know when it is dawn?
When we have enough light to recognise
in the face of a stranger ... that of our sister."
Indeed.
That proverb seems an appropriate summary of what the memorial was all about.
Those who designed this memorial and those who painted the poles had enough light to recognise, in a time of public and political darkness and moral confusion, that in the face of these strangers there were the faces of our brothers and sisters.
Monday, 3 September 2007
Approaching APEC
The public language used by NSW government ministers and the police in the run up to APEC has had a distinctly aggressive edge to it. There has been an assumption that deonstrations will be violent and a "bring it on" tone.
There has been no attempt to recognise the democratic character of public assembly and no substantive public statement of a willingness to engage in good faith with those people who are committed to the democratic process as manifested through non-violent protest.
Indeed the public stance of the authorities has given great comfort I would judge to those elements that see no difficulty with violence by unwillingness to engage with elements from civil society who wish to use APEC to raise there concerns with a variety of issues. The setting up of an alternative media office by a range of NGO's is an important attempt to engage serously in democratic debate. This too has been greeted with a notable lack of enthusiasm. the presence in this group of faith based age and development agencies like TEAR Australia, who engages with a wide constituency in the evangelical churches should give pause for thought.
A positive approach to engaging with civil society elements who want to raise issues of deep public concern in the context of APEC would have demonstrated a practical commitment to democracy that would have encouraged many people across the world and left those comfortable with the "ultimate forgetfulenss of violence" (Bruce Cockburn "Night Train") isolated.
Instead the militarisation of language and the threat of counterviolence by those in authority (not the upholding of justice be it noted) has proceeded apace.
There has been no attempt to recognise the democratic character of public assembly and no substantive public statement of a willingness to engage in good faith with those people who are committed to the democratic process as manifested through non-violent protest.
Indeed the public stance of the authorities has given great comfort I would judge to those elements that see no difficulty with violence by unwillingness to engage with elements from civil society who wish to use APEC to raise there concerns with a variety of issues. The setting up of an alternative media office by a range of NGO's is an important attempt to engage serously in democratic debate. This too has been greeted with a notable lack of enthusiasm. the presence in this group of faith based age and development agencies like TEAR Australia, who engages with a wide constituency in the evangelical churches should give pause for thought.
A positive approach to engaging with civil society elements who want to raise issues of deep public concern in the context of APEC would have demonstrated a practical commitment to democracy that would have encouraged many people across the world and left those comfortable with the "ultimate forgetfulenss of violence" (Bruce Cockburn "Night Train") isolated.
Instead the militarisation of language and the threat of counterviolence by those in authority (not the upholding of justice be it noted) has proceeded apace.
Saturday, 1 September 2007
Stanner on indigenous policy
Rereading WEH Stanner's 1968 Boyer lectures "After the Dreaming" I came across the following comments that forty yeasr laer seem to be relevant to assessment of recent 'policy initiatives' by the howard government on indigenous affairs.
There is he observed "... a certain inability to grasp that on the evidence the aborigines have always been looking for two things: a decent union of their lives with ours but on terms that let them preserve teir own identity, not their inclusion willy-nilly in our scheme of things on a fake identity, but development within a new way of life that has the imprint of their own ideas." (pp.27-28)
There is he observed "... a certain inability to grasp that on the evidence the aborigines have always been looking for two things: a decent union of their lives with ours but on terms that let them preserve teir own identity, not their inclusion willy-nilly in our scheme of things on a fake identity, but development within a new way of life that has the imprint of their own ideas." (pp.27-28)
Wednesday, 29 August 2007
Canadian reflections on Christian engagement with politics - a word to Christians at the heart of empire
The following extracts from a Canadian Christian struck a note and asked some questions that had occurred to me sporadically over the years of reading with appreciation Sojourners magazine.
I also think the Canadian location of the author is significant in raising questions for Christians who find themselves at the heart of empire.
-----------------
Canadian Comment: Posted: 8/24/2007
** ** ** ** ** **
http://thirdway.com/wv/?Page=3008|A+Letter+to+Progressive+Christians+in+the+U.S.
A Letter to Progressive Christians in the U.S by Will Braun - Freelance Author
** ** ** ** ** **
Doesn't the church have a higher calling; a calling qualitatively different than gaining maximum sway in the globe's most intense pursuit of worldly power?
** ** ** ** ** **
I write from a healthy distance: 1,566 miles, one international border and a curious cultural divide away from Capitol Hill, the global epicenter of raw power. Things must look different from out here on the snowy Canadian prairie because I just don't understand how progressive Christians; with whom I generally agree; have become so caught up in the machinations of super-power.
Whether it's Jim Wallis's bestselling God's Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It, the Network of Spiritual Progressives standing up to the Righteous Religious lobby, justice-minded U.S. evangelicals meeting with Britain's Prime Minister-in-waiting to make poverty history, or Barack and Hillary addressing Sojourners magazine's Pentecost event in D.C., it seems increasing attention is paid to what happens in Washington and how close one's favored kind of Christians are to the action.
I know it makes a huge difference who is president, and I certainly think citizens should apply savvy and creativity to the political process. But this Capitol-intensive Christianity I see among progressives; this form of faith so concerned with being involved in what happens at the top makes me uneasy. Doesn't the church have a higher calling; a calling qualitatively different than gaining maximum sway in the globe's most intense pursuit of worldly power?
So, for what it's worth, here are three admittedly unsolicited suggestions from the political backseat of the continent.
1. Chill
I'm not sure I should say this but I feel y'all in the U.S. are too caught up in the phenomenon of "America." Yep, even the progressive Christians. You take your nation and its politics so seriously. Obviously U.S. politics directly affects the lives of many people and cannot be ignored altogether, but super-power is not the ultimate power. As people of faith we have the luxury of a broader perspective, a perspective that allows us to operate on a plane beyond power-politics.
So have a coffee, chill, turn off the news, maybe take a trip north. We get hyped up over elections here, too; and sometimes I curse the scoundrel who is currently king of our castle; but in the end he's just the Prime Minister. We don't expect him to be a moral or spiritual figurehead. We don't actually care that much if he smoked up two decades ago or even two weeks ago.
Neither our moral nor spiritual center is with our politicians. And our political process is healthier for it. It is less polarized, less moralistic, and God isn't in anyone's corner. Sure we have religious politicians (our public health care system came straight from the social gospel) but because they rarely play the divine trump card, the polemic stakes don't get elevated to the level of God-is-on-my-side dead end absolutes.
It's just the U.S. Here "God Bless Canada" sounds completely bizarre, patriotism is optional, and, as far as I know, no one has ever pledged allegiance to our flag (literally). It's just Canada.
And ya know what folks it's just the U.S. It will fade away, quite possibly within most of our lifetimes (for better or worse). Of course we all need to be responsible citizens but we also have the responsibility of a bigger perspective. The world including the U.S. populace needs less "America," and progressive Christianity tends to offer more.
I fear I may be coming across too harshly. I should say that if Canadians are more humble it has much less to do with virtue than an inferiority complex rooted in our perpetual underdog status on the international stage (and our also-ran status at the Olympics). My intent is not to claim moral high ground but simply to share a perspective from out on the frosty periphery.
And let me add that I do not question the integrity or intentions of the Sojourners crew and others on the progressive front lines. The world owes them a debt for skillfully broadening the debate on politics and morality in the U.S. I just think that debate needs to continue in a broader context.
De-nationalizing belief. Perhaps one way to chill out the hype around D.C. would be for the church to organize on a hemispheric basis the Church of the Americas. Wouldn't it be a relief to rise above national identities and squabbles? The Red versus Blue quagmire would look quite different. Existing national faith organizations could gather under a broader umbrella, and that umbrella group could address both nations and bodies like the IMF and World Bank from an authoritative stance clearly above national partisan interest. I think society would take note and breathe a sigh of relief. And surely such a re-framing would shake loose some fresh, big-perspective thinking.
2. Power-down
As intriguing as it is to read about star-studded national prayer breakfasts, Wallis's parking lot encounters with Bono, or the religious musings of a favored Oval Office hopeful, the Christian scriptures keep pointing me back toward the bottom. Sure Jesus went to the capital, but he was riding a donkey. One can easily identify the political implications of what he said (and I have at times in my life tried to cast him as a political activist) but Jesus modeled a seemingly counter-intuitive, paradoxical approach to power. In the conspicuous absence of revolution or a well-groomed lobbying campaign, Jesus offered a seemingly irrational death on the margins. Sure he stepped on religious and wealthy toes, but those of his time who longed for political change ended up bitterly disappointed.
The rational approach to power in our day, I suppose, would be to create the most effective progressive Christian lobby possible, complete with public organizing campaigns, razor-sharp research and savvy media work; all stuff I love doing and have much experience with. But the paradoxical approach would somehow have to look different, even foolish.
Adopting methods of the Right. Here is the test I use when it comes to church posture in relation to power: to what extent do the methods of progressive Christians mirror those of the Religious Right? (The differences between the two groups are, of course, immense, but they share at least a couple assumptions.) The Holy Right seeks to influence governmental politics. They try to get as close to the White House as possible. They use church organizing infrastructure as political organizing infrastructure. They associate openly with politicians, backing some and bashing others. They court the media. They have their eyes on power.
Not much paradox there. Sometimes; not nearly always; it looks like progressive Christians are trying to out play the Right at its own game, envious of the Religious Right's success in Washington. Surely there is a better option.
What if the church focussed on everything except politics? No matter who is president or how slow the Democratic strategists are to "get it," much else can happen: communities can organize, non-corporatized food can be grown on church lots, fossil fuels can be avoided en masse, churches can greatly reduce greenhouse gas emissions, enemies can be boldly loved, massive consumer pressure can be exerted on the bad boys of business, and Christians can be a calming, defiant presence in places of violence. Of course policy changes would help in many cases but the point is that there is more power to be discovered and shared at the bottom than grasped for at the top. That's the paradox.
Of course the progressive faith organizations contribute to, and report on many of these things and for that we all owe them a great debt but I see a tension between the heavy focus on Washington and pursuit of paradoxical power on the margins.
The halls of powerlessness. Involvement on the margins of society will necessarily lead to some engagement with government. In my own faith-based work on indigenous rights and energy issues I have briefed politicians, met with CEOs and received visits from federal security agents. All that is a necessary aspect of ground-level justice work, but circulating within reach of political influence has a problematic appeal. As nice as the resulting eye-brow-raising stories are, the halls of power can easily become a preoccupation. So I believe the church's political engagement must start, finish and always be directly tied in with its presence on the margins, where primary energy should be exerted. There is a difference between occasional forays from the margins to governmental centers and a general orientation toward power politics.
Religion can go so many places politics can't, so why are we headed to Capitol Hill? I want religion to be everything politics is not: gracious, fearless (the powerful are so paranoid), beautiful, trustworthy, healing and strong in weakness. Let's trust the paradox.
3. Be the opposition
I very much appreciate that Wallis and company make an effort to present themselves as non-partisan champions of the moral center ...
Even if this non-partisan posture were fully convincing, much of the progressive dialogue is about, and in relation to, the left-right paradigm of partisan politics. With the U.S. and indeed the world increasingly polarized, we need people who not only re-adjust the binary left-right paradigm, but stand altogether and unmistakably outside it; people who perhaps don't even use left and right as reference points at all.
Surely there are already enough people and groups orbiting D.C. Religion, with its paradoxical view of power and its big perspective can provide a much-needed alternative center of gravity.
Rather than bolstering or advising the opposition party in the US, progressive Christians could be a sort of opposition to politics itself; a healthy counter-balance to the whole hierarchy of power rather than players in it.
God is not a political pundit. As Christians, let's give less credence to the top of the power pyramid rather than more. As much as we may have enjoyed watching the news on election night last November and it wasn't only Americans cheering; let's resist the temptation to place too much of our hope in a revived Democratic party. Instead, let's claim the bottom.
God is not a Republican or a Democrat. Or a backroom campaign strategist, or an American political pundit, or a lobbyist. I take great solace in knowing there is something entirely beyond the realm of Red and Blue, a higher plane that supersedes election cycles, frantic campaigning and the din of the lobbying frenzy. Ultimately our hope is in a paradoxical, unlikely power. And that is why I think the faith community has a higher calling than governmental politics.
I also think the Canadian location of the author is significant in raising questions for Christians who find themselves at the heart of empire.
-----------------
Canadian Comment: Posted: 8/24/2007
** ** ** ** ** **
http://thirdway.com/wv/?Page=3008|A+Letter+to+Progressive+Christians+in+the+U.S.
A Letter to Progressive Christians in the U.S by Will Braun - Freelance Author
** ** ** ** ** **
Doesn't the church have a higher calling; a calling qualitatively different than gaining maximum sway in the globe's most intense pursuit of worldly power?
** ** ** ** ** **
I write from a healthy distance: 1,566 miles, one international border and a curious cultural divide away from Capitol Hill, the global epicenter of raw power. Things must look different from out here on the snowy Canadian prairie because I just don't understand how progressive Christians; with whom I generally agree; have become so caught up in the machinations of super-power.
Whether it's Jim Wallis's bestselling God's Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It, the Network of Spiritual Progressives standing up to the Righteous Religious lobby, justice-minded U.S. evangelicals meeting with Britain's Prime Minister-in-waiting to make poverty history, or Barack and Hillary addressing Sojourners magazine's Pentecost event in D.C., it seems increasing attention is paid to what happens in Washington and how close one's favored kind of Christians are to the action.
I know it makes a huge difference who is president, and I certainly think citizens should apply savvy and creativity to the political process. But this Capitol-intensive Christianity I see among progressives; this form of faith so concerned with being involved in what happens at the top makes me uneasy. Doesn't the church have a higher calling; a calling qualitatively different than gaining maximum sway in the globe's most intense pursuit of worldly power?
So, for what it's worth, here are three admittedly unsolicited suggestions from the political backseat of the continent.
1. Chill
I'm not sure I should say this but I feel y'all in the U.S. are too caught up in the phenomenon of "America." Yep, even the progressive Christians. You take your nation and its politics so seriously. Obviously U.S. politics directly affects the lives of many people and cannot be ignored altogether, but super-power is not the ultimate power. As people of faith we have the luxury of a broader perspective, a perspective that allows us to operate on a plane beyond power-politics.
So have a coffee, chill, turn off the news, maybe take a trip north. We get hyped up over elections here, too; and sometimes I curse the scoundrel who is currently king of our castle; but in the end he's just the Prime Minister. We don't expect him to be a moral or spiritual figurehead. We don't actually care that much if he smoked up two decades ago or even two weeks ago.
Neither our moral nor spiritual center is with our politicians. And our political process is healthier for it. It is less polarized, less moralistic, and God isn't in anyone's corner. Sure we have religious politicians (our public health care system came straight from the social gospel) but because they rarely play the divine trump card, the polemic stakes don't get elevated to the level of God-is-on-my-side dead end absolutes.
It's just the U.S. Here "God Bless Canada" sounds completely bizarre, patriotism is optional, and, as far as I know, no one has ever pledged allegiance to our flag (literally). It's just Canada.
And ya know what folks it's just the U.S. It will fade away, quite possibly within most of our lifetimes (for better or worse). Of course we all need to be responsible citizens but we also have the responsibility of a bigger perspective. The world including the U.S. populace needs less "America," and progressive Christianity tends to offer more.
I fear I may be coming across too harshly. I should say that if Canadians are more humble it has much less to do with virtue than an inferiority complex rooted in our perpetual underdog status on the international stage (and our also-ran status at the Olympics). My intent is not to claim moral high ground but simply to share a perspective from out on the frosty periphery.
And let me add that I do not question the integrity or intentions of the Sojourners crew and others on the progressive front lines. The world owes them a debt for skillfully broadening the debate on politics and morality in the U.S. I just think that debate needs to continue in a broader context.
De-nationalizing belief. Perhaps one way to chill out the hype around D.C. would be for the church to organize on a hemispheric basis the Church of the Americas. Wouldn't it be a relief to rise above national identities and squabbles? The Red versus Blue quagmire would look quite different. Existing national faith organizations could gather under a broader umbrella, and that umbrella group could address both nations and bodies like the IMF and World Bank from an authoritative stance clearly above national partisan interest. I think society would take note and breathe a sigh of relief. And surely such a re-framing would shake loose some fresh, big-perspective thinking.
2. Power-down
As intriguing as it is to read about star-studded national prayer breakfasts, Wallis's parking lot encounters with Bono, or the religious musings of a favored Oval Office hopeful, the Christian scriptures keep pointing me back toward the bottom. Sure Jesus went to the capital, but he was riding a donkey. One can easily identify the political implications of what he said (and I have at times in my life tried to cast him as a political activist) but Jesus modeled a seemingly counter-intuitive, paradoxical approach to power. In the conspicuous absence of revolution or a well-groomed lobbying campaign, Jesus offered a seemingly irrational death on the margins. Sure he stepped on religious and wealthy toes, but those of his time who longed for political change ended up bitterly disappointed.
The rational approach to power in our day, I suppose, would be to create the most effective progressive Christian lobby possible, complete with public organizing campaigns, razor-sharp research and savvy media work; all stuff I love doing and have much experience with. But the paradoxical approach would somehow have to look different, even foolish.
Adopting methods of the Right. Here is the test I use when it comes to church posture in relation to power: to what extent do the methods of progressive Christians mirror those of the Religious Right? (The differences between the two groups are, of course, immense, but they share at least a couple assumptions.) The Holy Right seeks to influence governmental politics. They try to get as close to the White House as possible. They use church organizing infrastructure as political organizing infrastructure. They associate openly with politicians, backing some and bashing others. They court the media. They have their eyes on power.
Not much paradox there. Sometimes; not nearly always; it looks like progressive Christians are trying to out play the Right at its own game, envious of the Religious Right's success in Washington. Surely there is a better option.
What if the church focussed on everything except politics? No matter who is president or how slow the Democratic strategists are to "get it," much else can happen: communities can organize, non-corporatized food can be grown on church lots, fossil fuels can be avoided en masse, churches can greatly reduce greenhouse gas emissions, enemies can be boldly loved, massive consumer pressure can be exerted on the bad boys of business, and Christians can be a calming, defiant presence in places of violence. Of course policy changes would help in many cases but the point is that there is more power to be discovered and shared at the bottom than grasped for at the top. That's the paradox.
Of course the progressive faith organizations contribute to, and report on many of these things and for that we all owe them a great debt but I see a tension between the heavy focus on Washington and pursuit of paradoxical power on the margins.
The halls of powerlessness. Involvement on the margins of society will necessarily lead to some engagement with government. In my own faith-based work on indigenous rights and energy issues I have briefed politicians, met with CEOs and received visits from federal security agents. All that is a necessary aspect of ground-level justice work, but circulating within reach of political influence has a problematic appeal. As nice as the resulting eye-brow-raising stories are, the halls of power can easily become a preoccupation. So I believe the church's political engagement must start, finish and always be directly tied in with its presence on the margins, where primary energy should be exerted. There is a difference between occasional forays from the margins to governmental centers and a general orientation toward power politics.
Religion can go so many places politics can't, so why are we headed to Capitol Hill? I want religion to be everything politics is not: gracious, fearless (the powerful are so paranoid), beautiful, trustworthy, healing and strong in weakness. Let's trust the paradox.
3. Be the opposition
I very much appreciate that Wallis and company make an effort to present themselves as non-partisan champions of the moral center ...
Even if this non-partisan posture were fully convincing, much of the progressive dialogue is about, and in relation to, the left-right paradigm of partisan politics. With the U.S. and indeed the world increasingly polarized, we need people who not only re-adjust the binary left-right paradigm, but stand altogether and unmistakably outside it; people who perhaps don't even use left and right as reference points at all.
Surely there are already enough people and groups orbiting D.C. Religion, with its paradoxical view of power and its big perspective can provide a much-needed alternative center of gravity.
Rather than bolstering or advising the opposition party in the US, progressive Christians could be a sort of opposition to politics itself; a healthy counter-balance to the whole hierarchy of power rather than players in it.
God is not a political pundit. As Christians, let's give less credence to the top of the power pyramid rather than more. As much as we may have enjoyed watching the news on election night last November and it wasn't only Americans cheering; let's resist the temptation to place too much of our hope in a revived Democratic party. Instead, let's claim the bottom.
God is not a Republican or a Democrat. Or a backroom campaign strategist, or an American political pundit, or a lobbyist. I take great solace in knowing there is something entirely beyond the realm of Red and Blue, a higher plane that supersedes election cycles, frantic campaigning and the din of the lobbying frenzy. Ultimately our hope is in a paradoxical, unlikely power. And that is why I think the faith community has a higher calling than governmental politics.
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