Irony

Through my Political Science homework, I read Edward Burke telling me that the government, as something that protects our wants (since rights is too vague a term– and “wants” isn’t?), should be honored with pious awe and trembling solitude, and society is a contract of utmost importance. Religion is important, too, but only if it is linked to the state and helps inspire awe in it. Of course I’m thinking of the religiosity of patriotism while I’m reading this, sometimes called Americanism… and then, what should I hear from down the hall in our floor lobby… but the star spangled banner! And then “God bless America,” and “God bless the USA” and whatever other patriotic song people can think of. Well Burke, looks like you won. At least you’ve won the majority on the honors floor, that is.

Abstaining from Voting

I have heard numerous times during my time at Calvin, “This election is very important! You need to vote!” But rarely is it explained exactly why I should vote; it is simply assumed. The assumption is that as a Christian who lives in a democratic country, my right to vote is a blessing, and because of that, I should honor my faith as best I can by voting in a morally observant way. But what if the particular values I find intrinsic to my faith are contradicted by both the candidates? Do I pick the lesser of two evils, and find the candidate that most reflects the same convictions I do?

That is certainly an option that many Christians choose when as they decide to vote. But even if I do pick the candidate that I think is most “godly,” I know that my particular convictions are directed toward the goal of renewing the world and bringing about the Kingdom of God. Can I be sure that the candidate I vote for has that same goal in mind? As much as the candidates talk about their religious faith, is it too cynical of me to assume that they are simply using religion as another ploy to market themselves and their ideas? Perhaps they do have a genuine faith. But, at the end of the day, if it comes down to a choice between the Kingdom of God and the “Kingdom of America,” will not the President of the United States pick America? By voting for a president who will serve this country no matter what, am I not in some way placing an allegiance of country over my allegiance to God?

These are the concerns I have about participating in the American federal political system. But more than that, I am concerned that none of these options have been voiced openly in the Calvin community (at least not to my knowledge). Although those I have come in contact with have not expressed the belief that to be Christian is to vote Republican, or vice verse, it is assumed that whatever way a Christian votes, he or she is required to do so. Period.

However, there are a number of good arguments supporting an alternative Christian practice—intentionally not voting. Before I explain a few of them, let me be clear in saying that my purpose is not to say that the only option a Christian has is not voting. Neither is it to condone a lazy or apathetic attitude when it comes to the state of the world today (although a level of reasonable critique should be administered). It is not even to say that if one votes at all, he or she is wrong. In fact, I think that voting Christian-ly is certainly better than ignoring one’s faith in the “public” arena. My purpose is to open up the conversation by showing a different way of imagining one’s purpose as a Christian, and how one’s citizenship in the Kingdom of God might prohibit one from participating in the political workings of the kingdom of the world.

First, one must ask, what is the story of America, also known as the nation-state? Why did it come into being? What does it promise us? These are very complex questions to answer, and there may in fact be a multiplicity of answers depending on the interpretation of the questions, but for the sake of this article I will simply concentrate on one. The nation-state arose ultimately for the purpose of peace, gained through the notion of freedom. If we look at Locke’s description of government, he says that the purpose of government is to protect each individual’s property, which is to keep each person safe from harm, in a sense. However, the definition of freedom employed by Locke and the American myth is a negative one—individuals are freed from the interference of others to do whatever they want. This is very different from the Christian view of freedom, which has a positive goal, and claims that it is only by being bound to Christ for something—his Kingdom—that true freedom occurs. America is offering an alternative myth and an alternative definition of freedom than the Christian one. It could even be called “idolatrous.” In this view, to support America’s political system is to give validity to that idolatrous myth by participating in its rituals (of which voting is one of the most important. War, of course, is the other biggest one).

Another perspective is that voting is not just a “right,” but a sacred “rite,” implying that whether one is a Christian or not, one is religiously believing in something when one participates in voting.  Abstaining from it may be an act of witnessing to the world that our allegiance is tied to the worldwide body of believers, not to America. America is a concept of the imagination; we have to imagine that there is such a thing as borders, and that those borders separate us from “the other.” It is much easier to hate “the other” and go to war with “the other” if we have an “us vs. them” mentality.

Another aspect of politics that may prompt a Christian to abstain from participating is that voting is a strictly personal act. To abstain from it would be an effort to link ourselves communally to believers around the world, especially those believers in countries in which America is currently engaged in war.

These are a few perspectives. Now, you might be thinking, but when I vote I am really trying to love my neighbor as best as I can and imagine a nation in which all people flourish. That is a very worthy reason to vote. However,  here is my question: must the Christian’s duty to love his or her neighbor be mediated by the apparatus of the nation-state of America? Or does the church have an alternative politics that is not dependent on the nation-state to bring about the flourishing Kingdom of God?

V for Vendetta: Misinterpreting Locke?

“Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.”

Although this is a relatively long quote, and takes a bit more intentional concentration because of the repetition of the letter “v,” there are some very key points to the character and purpose of the character of “V” based on his word choice. He is victim and villain; he is the “vestige of the vox populi.” These concepts remind me quite clearly of Locke, and consequently the principles that Thomas Jefferson and Thomas Paine (Common Sense) interpreted from him, as I will explain below.

At the heart of Locke’s philosophy is the understanding of the individual man as having been gifted by God with the gift of reason. Because man is reasonable and self-interested, Locke expects that he will mix his labour with the fruits of the earth to obtain only what he needs and can enjoy. There will be a few bad apples however, and it is for that reason that individuals come together and form government, for the protection of their property.

In V for Vendetta, that is the case. The people of England accepted the High Chancellor because he promised them safety, and a protection of their property in that he saved their lives (one’s property consists firstly of himself). But Locke, and Jefferson after him, feel that it is one’s duty to overthrow a government if it has stopped fulfilling its initial purpose. Locke explains that by nature people are averse to change, however, and will actually stand a lot of abuse before taking revolution upon themselves, answering the concern that with this mindset the government would constantly be changing. Locke did not want to encourage this sense of perpetual change; in fact, he was arguing against a state of chaos.

This is where the movie differs. In one sense it is the same; it is to the people that V commences his “war of words.” The movie depicts many shots of what could be construed as the “average citizen,” those in a bar, those in a nursing home, a family in an ordinary home– all with the same response to V’s words– contemplative silence and stillness. Their stillness is almost unnerving. The movie-makers believe, as Locke does, that people are inherently good, and when given the opportunity to act upon the truth, they will. V does this by blowing up buildings. Locke might also have approved the use of violence in the case of self-defense, however, that violence would be for something. As opposed to a rebellion, that simply proposes anarchy, a revolution involves a “turning,” or a restoration of government to its proper role. The movie might have vaguely implied that an alternative would be found after the present government was gone… but it is decisively vague.

Evey’s character contributes to this greatly. V teaches her a whole new worldview, if you will– a view that makes him sound like a “crazy person” at first (perhaps there is a similarity between V’s discipleship of Evey and how one might disciple someone into faith in Christ? A topic for another time). But in the end, although V is dead, Evey has clearly been converted, for it is she who pulls the lever and blows up the building. When the inspector asks her why she is doing it she says it is because people need more than a building… they need hope.

This reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from the movie: “But regardless of what weapons they try to use to effect silence, words will always retain their power. Words are the means to meaning, and for some, the annunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country.“

Even though the methods V uses to fight for truth might be a little… untruthful, to say the least, constituted by violence, destruction of property, and chaos, the mindset behind his endeavor is a noble one. The movie talks a lot about fear, and how many of the people have been forced into inaction by their fear. But V finds a way to rid himself of fear, and he teaches that to Evey as well. And his fight is a fight of love. He had forgotten that in his pursuit of revenge… but he is reminded of it by his encounter with Evey as he falls in love with her. We could debate the difference of romantic love vs. Christian love, however for the point of this conversation I’d like to include another quote:

Evey: I don’t want you to die.

V: That’s the most beautiful thing you could have ever given me.

Death is not something that should ever be accepted as “good” or “truthful.” I heard talk today of a “happy fall,” but I think that is extremely dangerous. Death always is an unwelcome intrusion into our lives, and Christ conquered death for that reason. So although V’s methods might have caused the death of others, ultimately he was fighting against a society that was orchestrated by death. That does not excuse him and his misinterpretation of Locke, since he did not even fully articulate an alternative to the present government… however, its initial attraction to me was because of this fight for Truth. A pacifist would do it with far less violence, of course.

V is the “vox populi,” the voice of the people. His role is our role, and his fight is our fight. He fought for those citizens… and because he is them, they should be constituted by the same actions. Sounds sort of familiar… maybe like Christ and the church.

Brand New

I haven’t posted a video in a while, so here’s a music video I stumbled across. I was listening to the song originally on my Pandora station, and when the title came up “Jesus Christ” I thought it was going to be a heretical mockery of Christianity. But it became pretty clear pretty quickly this was not the case, and I think the person who compiled the pictures for this video did a pretty decent job. The lyrics give me goosebumps.

Jesus Christ, that’s a pretty face
The kind you’d find on someone that could save
If they don’t put me away
Well, it’ll be a miracle

Do you believe you’re missing out
That everything good is happening somewhere else?
But with nobody in your bed
The night’s hard to get through

And I will die all alone
And when I arrive I won’t know anyone

Well, Jesus Christ, I’m alone again
So what did you do those three days you were dead?
Cause this problem’s gonna last more than the weekend.

Well, Jesus Christ, I’m not scared of dying,
I’m a little bit scared of what comes after
Do I get the gold chariot?
Do I float through the ceiling?

Do I divide and fall apart?
Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark
And the ship went down in sight of land
And at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands

I know you’re coming in the night like a thief
But I’ve had some time, O Lord, to hone my lying technique
I know you think that I’m someone you can trust
But I’m scared I’ll get scared and I swear I’ll try to nail you back up

So do you think that we could work out a sign
So I’ll know it’s you and that it’s over so I won’t even try

I know you’re coming for the people like me
But we all got wood and nails
And turned out a hate factory
We all got wood and nails
And turned out a hate factory
We all got wood and nails
And we sleep inside of this machine

Stanley Hauerwas and the Modern University: On Prayer and Foreign Policy

“But in a university shaped by the narratives and practices that come from the Christian tradition, I would think it would make a good deal of sense to pray before class. This practice, I believe, would shape the knowledges that constitute that class. Furthermore, the questions of the class I think would change. Rather than asking, “What would be good for an American foreign policy?” We might well ask, “What would be the common good of Christians in the United States being in unity with Christians in Basra?” And as a result we might have to reconsider how should we think about and live our lives.”

~Stanely Hauerwas, “Learning Like a Christian,” Interview on September 9, 2008.

http://www.theotherjournal.com/article.php?id=426

College, Community, and Enclaves

A few years ago one of my classes spent a lot of time talking about the difference between a community and an enclave. Our discussions provided a distinction; an enclave is a bunch of people who are all the same, while a community runs wholeheartedly into diversity. Diversity is a buzz word here at Calvin, and in recent years they have spent a lot of time trying to attract a multi-cultural population. It’s worked to some extent, but there is still racism, which they discuss on a regular basis instead of conveniently forgetting about it.

During our discussions about community in that class, especially from reading Jean Vanier’s book, “Community and Growth,” community became something really attractive to me. Since then I’ve met intentional communities in the Portland area, and read about others, and I am always really attracted to them. Everyone has a sense of loneliness that comes from not being unified with God… and a community of God’s people seemed to address that well. I imagined after I got settled here at Calvin I would try and find an intentional community in the area.

But what I didn’t take into account was that even living on the dorms is a type of community. There is dorm rivalry, which I don’t personally embrace, but there is also a really good camraderie for those living together. The resident director said at our dorm meeting that this is our home. We’re not just visitors here for the next year. That’s a long time to be a visitor.

Yet as part of the honors floor, which is an even more intentional aspect of community, I’m wondering if it ever becomes an enclave. I’m tempted to say no. There’s a lot of difference in our floor; different majors, different interests, different political leanings (which is a big one this year), etc.

Just a few thoughts. I miss my friends back home, because we had known each other for so long, that was an awesome community. It’s hard starting from scratch, hoping for that sort of community, but not experiencing yet. So, with this post I’m hoping to get my mind (and heart) in the right place to experience the community at its fullest.

Christianity and Politics

My interaction with American politics has certainly changed the last few years. A few years ago I had high hopes for becoming the first woman president. When Hillary was still in the running, that part of me was sadly disappointed I might lose my chance. I took a government class last year, and interacted with politics that way… but lately in my reading I have encountered a completely different way of thinking about politics. Authors such as Stanley Hauerwas, Willaim Cavanaugh, and most recently the authors of Colossians Remixed: Subverting the Empire, Walsh and Keesmaat, talk about America as an idolatrous version of Christianity. The nation-state demands our allegiance with our bodies in the public arena while Christianity has been privatized to the soul in unpublic places like home, or church. Unlike Jerry Falwell’s “moral majority,” this genre of thought focuses on changing people’s hearts by “being the church,” not forcing them to act in a more Christian manner by trying to change the empire’s laws.

So, as the political campaign is coming close to the climax, I find myself on a Christian college campus. I even happen to be taking a political science class, in which we will compose something similar to a wikipedia article that acts as a voter’s guide, informing the reader what each ticket’s position is on a certain topic. That article will even be published by the college newspaper. Politics is not limited to the classroom however; it is one of the top, if not the top, conversation topics.

From my association with the students, there seems to be a much larger republican population than democratic. In fact, the Republican students’ club is staging a voting drive, with forms and stickers and other political paraphenalia. Professors as well, say something similar to what Rick Warren recently said: the most important thing is to vote. This is a pivotal election, and, to give them credit, our Christian leaders feel that as educated Christian youth, we should try and renew this country by voting.

However, not once have I heard the option of not voting. Or at least, not as a deliberately subversive act; there are a good number of Canadian and international students who do not have the option of voting. Greatly indebted to Halden’s posts about this particular issue, specifically the ones discussing the book,  Electing Not to Vote, coupled with my personal dissociation from America as an alternative soteriology, it just seems almost ridiculous to me to concern myself with an empire that I don’t subscribe to and give validity to its myths.

Jim Wallis is scheduled to speak next week, and I am extremely excited about it. However, despite Wallis’ provocative title: God’s Politics: Why the Right Gets it Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get it, it seems that his leanings have been distinctly on the democratic side of things… defending Obama’s character as a fellow Christian, even if he’s not officially supporting him, etc. My hope is that the option of not voting is at least brought up into conversation. This is a very grace-filled place in all spheres, including academic and political thought.  There is determined action for the cause of the marginalized. A non-voter certainly seems to be in the margins at this point in time. Just something to keep in mind.

Another influence in this discussion has been James K.A. Smith, who has had a series of a few blogs on politics the last few weeks, particularly August 26th reference to Stanley Hauerwas’ announcement that he will vote for Obama. However today I encountered a more precise interview with Hauerwas, that is amusingly mostly about education, not about politics. Yet in the last few paragraphs the interviewer asks him about his advice regarding voting, and here is what he says:

[Don't] overestimate the importance of elections!

People forget that elections are not democracy. Elections are only the means to try to occasion the debates necessary for the discovery of goods in common that are impossible to be discovered without the debates. Elections themselves can be very coercive practices in which the majority gets to tell the minority what to do. So I think that the overestimation of elections as the defining mark of democracy, and how you even begin to think about democracy, is one of the things I would want to warn Christians about in this time.

I will probably vote this time, but I don’t always do so. I always think of Mike Baxter’s claim, “Don’t vote, it only encourages them!” But because Obama is symbolically such an important development, I’ll probably do what my African American friends tell me to do and vote for Obama. But I do think that the expectations his election encourage may become a deep problem, because there’s no way he can meet them.

This resonates with the opinion of another good friend of mine, Seth Johnson, who said, “Getting caught up believing that we can solve problems, that some miraculous man or woman will just solve stuff…
I think that unhealthy.”

Two other aspects of those quotes: Seth’s comment brings up the aspect of the election due to what Smith calls the religion of Americanism, religion that calls for a messiah. This has especially been evident with Obama this election.

But Hauerwas’ comment that his African-American friends are the ones influencing him to vote is a very respectable one.

This issue is certainly not black and white (no pun intended), and it would be ungraceful of me to propose otherwise.

Also, I recognize there might be a certain amount of dishonor read into this post being written on September 11, the day that has been inscribed on every American’s heart. I have no rebuttal for that, all I will say is that I respect virtuous people, even if I think their virtue was directed toward the wrong telos, God’s “common grace” (a phrase new to me that I picked up from my CRC friends) was certainly present in them, and they definitely deserve to hold the role of hero.

Credo Ut Intelligam

“I believe so that I may understand.” St. Anselm’s famous lines, echoing St. Augustine, could be interpreted in two ways (it seems to me).

1) The definition of “belief” is one of a logical construction. This belief becomes a foundation for a system of beliefs, that when constructed, composes what could be deemed as a “worldview.” When this worldview is set, it brings about understanding, in the empirical sense of the word.

OR

2) “Belief” is a vulnerable act of faith, which does not necessarily dispel doubt, declaring the mystery of God too far beyond our comprehension to understand empirically. The individual makes the commitment to “believe,” however, and in so doing, hopes for the grace of God to encounter him or her into a relational understanding.

In context of the passage, and interpreted from my own personal “worldview” (as flawed as that term can sometimes be), I think the second one is much more in line with St. Anselm’s meaning. Anselm spends a good deal of the beginning lamenting his fallen nature, and the barriers that keep him from knowing God. In that context, I think it is valid to say that he has not been influenced by the modernistic pride found in the first interpretation, which values absolutes and does violence to God by categorizing him and limiting him to a specific sphere. Anselm seems to propose God is the initiator of the relationship and is the powerful one, not the person he’s encountering.

Agents of Renewal, Educating for Shalom

I am now at college. I’ve been at orientation for a week now, and in some ways, it seems way too long of a period for that sort of stuff. I would much prefer to meet my friends in the classroom than being shoved together in ice-breaker games that force us to have many conversations with many people in such short succession that nothing sticks. But, its near the end of the week and certain people are becoming more knowable to me, and vice verse.

But I know the college is intentionally spending a lot of time introducing us to the community, and that I can appreciate. The language of “conversation,” a very postmodern concept, I think, is brought out a lot. They are not trying to give us answers, or disembodied unconnected facts as I said earlier, but ask the right questions and let us wrestle with them. Their mission statement, to be “agents of renewal, in the academy, church, and world” is not seen as an simply thing, but something to be discussed and that has huge ramifications and depth. Even the word “orientation” is defined, by returning to the roots of the word, the navigational term for facing east. The orientation is meant to chart our course during the supposed next four years that we are here.

Two of the orientation days specifically have impacted me exceedingly. The first was the day we did service-learning. It was the first day I started getting to know the group I had been placed in, and I got to encounter them by seeing their selflessness and hardworking care for the poor, which was awesome. We were at a low-income housing facility, cleaning up houses that had been abandoned. So on top of getting to know the group (well, half of them technically) I encountered stories of brokenness through the objects left behind, sometimes pictures, sometimes evidences of crack. It was heartbreaking and at the same time showed me their stories, placing me in their shoes. And we were providing manpower for the organization that was severely underfunded.

The other really exciting day was the one that talked about the Reformed-ness of the school. One of my favorite authors and postmodern philosophers is Dr. James K.A. Smith, more commonly referred to as “Jamie” around here, opened the day about what it meant that we are a “liberal arts college.” One of the other professors even went so far as to say our major doesn’t matter. The language he used was so close to the language I used in my paper on classical education, it was a little scary. He stressed that its not about wealth, power or status or occupationally oriented, but that it forms the person, showing what the “good life” looks like. It shapes our desires, and forms what we love, and that love gives rise to “what really matters” and provides some knowledge. And with knowledge comes responsibility to the Kingdom.

The most beautiful part was the encounter with a movie. Film and music are highly valued here, more so in recent years than in the past. They’ve always been able to write well and succinctly, but now the focus on what’s normally referred to as the “arts” is complementing that quite well. He showed a clip from the movie, “Little Miss Sunshine,” that showed a family that wasn’t prestigious, wasn’t beautiful, weren’t successful. But they did know how to do one thing really well– Love each other. That is what the kingdom of God might look like… to use Rodney Clapp’s language, we are called to be a “peculiar people.” And we should not wait for said kingdom. As Kuyper said, “There is not one square inch of creation over which Jesus Christ does not say, that’s mine!” It is our job to be agents of renewal, bringers of shalom for that Kingdom.

Greetings from College

Note to students everywhere:

“Our prayer is that, in a world that has commodified knowledge, you will be saturated with the holistic, intimate knowledge of God’s way with the world that he has created. May your lives be characterized not by the accumulation of disembodied, unconnected facts and information but by a playful, history embrancing, this worldly, interconnected wisdom that traces the wise and loving way God engages this world in all its rich diversity.”

Loosely based on Colossians 1:9-10. Found in Colossians Remixed: Subverting the Empire by Brian J. Walsh and Sylvia C. Keesmaat, p. 40.