Tuesday, November 4, 2014

He Was One Who Owned Much Property

Mark 10:17-23

As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up to Him and knelt before Him, and asked Him, “Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” 
And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call Me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘do not murder; do not commit adultery; do not steal; do not bear false witness; do not defraud; honor your father and mother.’" 
And he said to Him, “Teacher, I have kept all these things from my youth up.” 
Looking at him, Jesus felt a love for him and said to him, “One thing you lack: go and sell all you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.” 
But at these words he was saddened, and he went away grieving, for he was one who owned much property.  
And Jesus, looking around, said to His disciples, “How hard it will be for those who are wealthy to enter the kingdom of God!”

Interpreters often point out that Jesus leaves out the first four commandments, all of which have to do with putting God first: "don't have any other gods before me; don't make idols; don't take the name of God in vain; keep the Sabbath set apart." 

But even after Jesus lists the latter six commandments, and the wealthy property owner says that he has kept them, Jesus doesn't go on to list the first four. Instead, he points the man to give up what he values most, to give it to the poor, and to follow him.

Jesus is looking to the heart of the law. The man's property has taken the place of God as the giver of security, personal value, purpose, and so on and so on. Thus, property has become the man's god. And this god consumes him, and it consumes the poor.

None of this interpretation is new. Neither is the question, "What is your god?" 

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Slavery, Freedom and Christian Leadership in the 21st Century

Recently a friend suggested that I read In the Name of Jesus, a little book that Henri Nouwen wrote in the late 1980s about Christian leadership in the coming century, in which we now find ourselves. The following excerpt resonated deeply.







The task of future Christian leaders is not to make a little contribution to the solution of the pains and tribulations of their time, but to identify and announce the ways in which Jesus is leading God’s people out of slavery, through the desert to a new land of freedom.
Christian leaders have the arduous task of responding to personal struggles, family conflicts, national calamities, and international tensions with an articulate faith in God’s real presence.
They have to say “no” to every form of fatalism, defeatism, accidentalism or incidentalism which make people believe that statistics are telling us the truth.  They have to say no to every form of despair in which human life is seen as a pure matter of good or bad luck.
They have to say “no” to sentimental attempts to make people develop a spirit of resignation or stoic indifference in the face of the unavoidability of pain, suffering and death.
In short, they have to say “no” to the secular world and proclaim in unambiguous terms that the incarnation of God’s Word, through whom all things came into being, has made even the smallest event of human history into Kairos, that is, an opportunity to be led deeper into the heart of Christ.
This is a hard discipline, since God’s presence is often a hidden presence, a presence that needs to be discovered.  The loud boisterous noises of the world make us deaf to the soft, gentle, and loving voice of God.  A Christian leader is called to help people to hear that voice and so be comforted and consoled.

Friday, May 2, 2014

Žižek: A Very Brief Introduction, and His Critique of Western Buddhism

Some have called him dangerous. Some have called him a bête noire ("black beast" - something that is particularly distasteful or difficult and to be avoided). Some - perhaps most - have never heard of him. The Slovenian political philosopher (and I give him that title because I'm not sure how else to classify him, if not bête noire), Slavoj Žižek, is the patron saint of the young European intellectual elite (if in fact we've entered an era in which sainthood can be conferred upon the living), and he'll be shaking things up with the hipsters on this side of the pond soon enough. Although, if history offers a key to understanding the process of culture shaping, Žižek's influence will probably linger just below the surface, waiting for a posthumous eruption.

I've been reading a couple of his books in my current research, The Sublime Object of Ideology and The Monstrosity of Christ. Before you get tripped up on "monstrosity," know that it does not mean what you probably imagined at first glance. With "monstrosity," Žižek refers to Hegel's notion (which Žižek shares) of the subversively powerful claim that God, the divine Logos, the Word of God, "became flesh and lived among us" (John 1:14). Here's Žižek on the matter:

Hegel uses this unexpectedly strong word,"monstrosity,” to designate the first figure of Reconciliation, the appearance of God in the finite flesh of a human individual: “This is the monstrous [das Ungeheure] whose necessity we have seen.”1 The finite fragile human individual is “inappropriate” to stand for God, it is “die Unangemessenheit ueberhaupt[the inappropriateness in general, as such].”3

So much for introductions. I'll let you wrestle with the Incarnation. I began this post with the intention of presenting a few of his insights on Western Buddhism. To those we now turn. Oh, and it's important to know that he's a Marxist:

Spiritual meditation [and here Žižek means the so-called "pure" forms of meditation - mindfulness, Zen, "sitting," Transcendental Meditation (TM), etc.], in its abstraction from institutionalized religion, appears today as the zero-level undistorted core of religion: the complex institutional and dogmatic edifice which sustains every particular religion is dismissed as a contingent secondary coating of this core. The reason for this shift of accent from religious institution to the intimacy of spiritual experience is that such a meditation is the ideological form that best fits today’s global capitalism.4

Elsewhere, in an interview with Believer, a San Francisco based magazine that concerns itself with issues of hipster culture, Žižek elaborates on Buddhism and Capitalism:

...This basic Buddhist insight that there is no permanent self, permanent subject, just events and so on, in an ironic way perfectly mirrors this idea that products are not essential. [What is] essential is this freedom of how you consume products and the idea that the market should no longer focus on the product. It is no longer: this car has this quality, blah blah blah. No, it’s what you will do with the car. They are trying as directly as possible to sell you experiences, i.e. what you are able to do with the car, not the car as a product itself. An extreme example of this is this existing economic marketing concept, which basically evaluates the value of you as a potential consumer of your own life. Like, how much are you worth, in the sense of all you will spend to buy back your own life as a certain quality life. You will spend so much in doctors, so much in beauty, so much in transcendental meditation, so much for music, and so on. What you are buying is a certain image and practice of your life. So what is your market potential, as a buyer of your own life in this sense?

 To which the Believer interviewer responds,

OK, so ironically, when Westerners buy into a Buddhist mentality, then they set themselves up to be perfect consumers in contemporary capitalism. It is kind of sad and funny at the same time. While looking for spirituality or God, they become ideal consumers to marketing executives. Sounds like science fiction.

Science fiction, or the high point of Western Civilization as it is today. Have you ever noticed that a great deal of the highest quality clothing and gear at REI is branded with Buddhist names? "The Zen," "Prana" ("breath" in Sanskrit), and so forth. They don't even attempt to conceal it.



_________________________________________


I owe a great deal for my understanding of Žižek to my friend, Vincent. You know who you are.

1G. W. F. Hegel, Theologian of the Spirit, ed. Peter C. Hodgson (Minneapolis: Fortress Press,
1997), p. 238-9.

2G. W. F. Hegel, Werke, vol. 17 (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1969), p. 272.

3Slavoj Žižek, John Milbank, and Creston Davis. The Monstrosity of Christ: Paradox or Dialectic? (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2009), p. 74.

4ibid, p. 28. Italics added for emphasis.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

A Theology of Immigration

Like a happy little cloud, the thought of beginning with a satirical cartoon floated through my mind's sky. But you've seen enough of those, and they aren't all that happy. This is a space for real conversation, and careful consideration isn't exactly fostered through pencil-sketch mockery.

This is no small issue. Immigration, I mean. Especially for the so-called "Religious Right." But if the "Right" is so very "Religious," which in the West invariably means "Christian," how is it that Immigration reform for the good of the immigrant is such a taboo topic? It certainly isn't taboo in the Bible. Both Testaments have a great deal to say about the treatment of foreigners, even if that shouldn't necessarily be applied to public policy. We do live in a post-Christian society, whether we wish to admit it or not, and that isn't going to change. But shouldn't the Christians be the ones advocating for the foreigners? I reckon that neither the Right nor the Left's immigration policy has anything to do with Christianity.

While it may be an oversimplification of an anything-but-simple issue, I would point to a single passage when it comes to Christian Immigration:

When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God. (Leviticus 19:33-34; cf. Deuteronomy 10:19; Exodus 22:21)
Translation: Treat those who are not natives in your country just like you'd treat your own kids. Would you want your own kids to be able to go to the hospital, even if they'd gone down the wrong path and spiralled into drugs? I did that once, and I'm sure glad people treated me well. Would you want your children to be allowed a job in a safe and healthy environment? Or a spot in a classroom with their peers?

And the justification for all of this? "Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt." Mutual understanding; intimate knowledge of the suffering of the foreigner. It is a problem, I'd be willing to argue, that most of the Right doesn't have much intimate knowledge of the position of a foreigner. Neither do I. But there is a second justification:

I am the Lord your God.
The emphasis misses us in the English, but consider reading the "I" as of foremost importance here.  I am the Lord your God.

"Me - the one who has grace for the lost and lowly, who has mercy on the sinner, who has chosen you to be the light of the world, who is faithful even when you are not, the one who sees your trouble and cares for you - it is I who am your source of life, your leader, your provider. I am the Lord your God."

And so, love the outsider. Act with grace toward the addicted immigrant. This is evangelical.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Plato's Republic and Rivers in the Wasteland by NEEDTOBREATE

On April 15th, NEEDTOBREATHE (NTB) released a new album - Rivers in the Wasteland - via Atlantic Records. If you haven't heard these guys, they play a blend of American / Southern Rock and soft Indie. This album is different, and I'd venture to say better than anything NTB has ever produced - stylistically, musically, and lyrically. A few of the songs are quickly rising to the top of the Best Ever List (which I've taken the liberty to craft and force upon you).

This album is an open hand, beckoning, urging even, the listener into an encounter with philosophical and theological themes that, like a dark chocolate or a fine wine, can only and ever truly be tasted through careful attention and gentle reflection.

To prepare your palate, then, here's a little of Socrates' musing on music in Plato's Republic:

...Musical training is a more potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the inward places of the soul, on which they mightily fasten, imparting grace, and making the soul of the one rightly educated [by music] graceful, or of the one ill-educated [by music], ungraceful. And also because he who has received this true education of the inner being will most shrewdly perceive omissions or faults in art and nature, and while he praises and rejoices over the good and receives it into his soul, and becomes noble and good, he will justly blame and hate the bad with a true taste, now in the days of his youth, even before he will recognize and salute the friend with whom his education has made him long familiar.

And here's a little something YHWH said in Isaiah's book:

Forget the former things;
    do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
    and rivers in the wasteland. 


So, below are a few lyrics from Rivers in the Wasteland. And if we're to follow Socrates' advice from elsewhere, which is generally a pretty good idea, the lyrics don't hold the same power over the soul when separated from their rhythm, harmony and melody. So listen to the album.


From "Wasteland":

All of these people I meet - it seems like they're fine.
In some ways I hope that they're not,
and their hearts are like mine.
Yeah its wrong when it seems like work
to belong, all I feel is hurt. 

Oh if God is on my side,
yeah if God is on my side,
oh if God is on my side,
then who can be against me

From "Difference Maker":

Isn't it amazing how a man can find himself alone.
Call into the darkness for an answer that he's never known.
Isn't it amazing how a God can take a broken man;
yeah let him find a fortune, let him ruin it with his own two hands. 
And he climbs on up the hill,
to the rock on which he stands
and he looks back at the crowd
and he looks down at his hands and he says -  
I am a difference maker.

From "More Heart, Less Attack":

Be the light in the cracks;
be the one that’s been there, the camel’s back;
slow to anger, quick to laugh,
be more heart, and less attack 
Be the wheels not the track,
be the wonderer that’s coming back.
Leave the past right where it’s at.
Be more heart, and less attack 
The more you take the less you have
'cause it’s you in the mirror staring back,
quick to let go slow to react,
be more heart, and less attack 
Ever growing, steadfast,
and if need be, the one that’s in the gap.
Be the never-turning-back,
twice the heart any man could have.

From "Multiplied":

Your love is
like radiant diamonds,
bursting inside us
we cannot contain.
Your love will
surely come find us,
like blazing wildfires
singing your name 
God of Mercy,
sweet love of mine,
I have surrendered
to your design.
May this offering
stretch across the skies,
and these hallelujahs
be multiplied.

I hope you take the time to listen to and reflect on the album. It's title gains its significance from Isaiah 43:18-19, quoted above. It's on Spotify, Youtube, iTunes, etc. Music does change people. Do take care.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Nobody Took Jesus's Life.

(I'm reposting this from my Facebook status.)


Fact of the Day:

Nobody took Jesus's life.

Yesterday, the Friday before Easter, is named by the Christians, "Good Friday." It's the day that Christians have historically remembered Jesus's walk down a dusty stone road in the Middle East, sweating, stumbling under the torture device upon which he would be nailed, hung, and executed. If it had all happened in America in the 1960's, Christians would be wearing little electric chairs as jewelry. Why? Why is this "Good"?

The Christian understanding is not one of "cosmic child abuse," nor of the sad loss of a great man or prophet. Christians call this Friday "Good," because Jesus, God with us, died on that torture device intentionally.

He went in love.

He went because he knew that the only way to show love for someone was to "lay it all down" for them, and in his case it meant physical death.

He went because he knew that we've done things that we can't pay for, that we can't bear thinking about, that we hate ourselves for.

He went so that he could say, "You are loved more than you can possibly imagine, whatever you've done, whatever has been done to you. You are forgiven. You can have peace with yourself, with everyone in your life, and with the One who made you. I have finished all of the work already. Trust me."

Nobody took Jesus's life. He gave it.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Stealing from Atheism 2.0. Nicely.

I'm stealing this idea from NearEmmaus, one of my favorite blogs.

Alan de Botton, a kind atheist, presents some profound critiques of secularization in this TED Talk. As a Christian, he reminds me of some of the great benefits of Christian art, the liturgical calendar, community, etc. As a Christian, de Botton encourages me in my practices. While I disagree entirely on the superstructure of belief, and I say "Of course there is a God, look around you," I think he has some important things to say, which ought to act as excellent reminders for those of us who find ourselves swept up in the grand story of a loving Creator. Take a few minutes to watch de Botton's talk; you'll be glad you did.