Theology for the Masses

Honzo February 27th, 2008

One of the themes in my Sunday school class is justice. We have looked at God’s desire for material justice¹ in the world. We have looked at such verses as Isaiah 61:8, Zech 7:8-10, and James 1:27; all of which make it crystal clear that one of our functions in this world is to work towards material justice as well as the spiritual redemption of humankind.

I get the small scale application of this issue. Well, I am lying, I kinda get it. I know how to act justly towards the individual people in my life. I might not be overly good at it, but it is something I am working towards.

I μέν see individual Christians working towards peace and material justice in individual lives as the answer to Ivan’s moral problem with God in “Rebellion,” what δέ I can’t see is how this works on a large scale. I am of the firm understanding that throwing money at the problem (and here I am most specifically thinking about aid to Africa here) only at best perpetuates the problem and quite possibly makes things worse.

Also, I am not a big fan of certain statistics used in showing the gap in material possessions between our world and the developing world. Statistics such as “X people only make $1 a day” assume that the base model for human life is a capitalistic, consumeristic model, as if to say the problem won’t be fixed until They make as much money as Us. Now, at the same time, I see the usefulness of these stats, they help shatter certain conceptions about the material conditions in which these peoples find themselves and help to highlight the need for justice in their lives. What I don’t want to do is bring the God of materialism along with the God of Christianity to the Other.

Whenever I go a thinking about a widespread, “big picture” plan of action, I keep coming the conclusion that a political solution is needed. Given the nature of certain countries’ leaders, a political solution must be predicated by a military solution. Yet, all of this seems to go against my “Kingdom of God” theology. As such, I am at a loss. I know how I would go about trying to fix the problem apart from Christian values, but when I factor those in, I am left with a myriad of contradictions.

And yet, God still demands that we help those in need, and I am to do what God demands. What I need here in an infusion of creativity and ideas. How can we help those in need in the concrete?

I get the need, I need a plan.

1. By material justice, I don’t mean equal possessions. I am talking about real and tangible justice in this world, as contrasted with waiting around for the just situation we will find in the next. [↩]

• Economics , Materialism , Politics
• Comments(10)

tom December 22nd, 2007

When I first began reading feminist theology, Schusseler-Fiorenza and Welch drew my attention to how language, particularly patriarchal language, shapes not only abstract theological concepts, but also the everyday, practical matters of the Christian life. Among other things, we assume male dominance in the masculine pronouns we use for God, even though we classically maintain God is neither He nor She, but Spirit.

Though I could continue to criticize the church’s use of vocabulary in the oppression of certain peoples, the ecclesiastical rhetoric I want to appraise presently is the church’s employment of the vocabulary of the Empire – particularly its economic verbage.

I often hear Christians refer to “investing” in either non-believers or people whom they are mentoring in the faith. The language of investment is procured, obviously, from the economic world referring to putting money to use in order to gain a potentially profitable return. That is, one invests in order to gain a return.

But is the return what Christian friendship is really about? It is supposed to be what I can gain from my time and effort spilled into another person? When we “invest” in a non-Christian, what we often mean is that we spend time with them in order to make them Christian! When we “invest” in a disciple, we mean we spend time with them in order to elicit the return of sanctification!

But is the return at the heart of Christianity? Is my primary agenda in befriending a non-Christian that they might buy into my product? Does this language not dehumanize and objectify our “investment”? Does this language not communicate that this whole Christianity thing is about what I can profit, or God can yield? Being friends with people outside the Christian faith is not about investment, it is about being genuine friends! Genuine friendship, for sure, involves demonstrating God’s love to the other. But this demonstration of love is not artificial and contrived; it is not about reciprocation or return. Consider my friendship with JR.

I would never say of JR that I am “investing” in him. That would entail certain things which are not inherent in sincere friendship. It would imply that I deem him spiritually below me or that he needs me in his life to be spiritually fruitful. It also implies that my agenda is to correct his spiritual imperfections, and because of my investment, I expect that he will provide a certain return. In the end, the language of investment doesn’t appear to be a natural part of genuine friendship.

But, in the end, this is not even the most dangerous aspect of investment rhetoric.

For me, the most dangerous part of the church’s employment of economic language is that we have taken the language of America’s dominant deity (economics, consumerism, materialism), and leaving it unchanged and unchallenged, we have taken it into our communities like a long lost brother. But as long as the economic rhetoric involved in America’s one true religion is warmly accepted by the church, we will never be able to counter the influence of capitalism, consumerism, materialism, or just plain-ole Mammon in our lives.

Now from where I sit, it appears we have two options. First, the church can completely rid itself of economic language. We can completely drop the language like a deflated stock. No more language of investment or any other kind of rhetoric that smacks of capitalism.

The second option, and one that requires a bit more creativity, is to continue to use economic language, but subvert it by investing it with distinctly Christian meaning. This option falls in line a bit more with what we see in the New Testament. The Gk. word we translate “fellowship” often referred to partnership in business agendas in the first century. Also, and more obvious, the word we translate “redeem” means to “buy back.” It too is an overtly economic word.

I like this second option the best, but there are two difficulties with it.

First, are we creative enough, or even powerful enough, to change the way Christian people generally employ economic rhetoric? Like Wal-Mart in a small town, economic language dominates our American landscape. Completely subverting it and changing it is a nearly impossible task. We may try, but in the end, our use of language is merely a text which is interpreted and misinterpreted by our hearers. Just because I invest economic rhetoric with new meaning doesn’t mean my hearers will observe that investment.

Second, when the New Testament writers reinvested economic language with Christian meaning, they were not using the language of the dominant deity of the Roman Empire. So, even assuming our hearers will understand our new meaning, might we be safer in simply abandoning the language altogether?

So, that’s as far as my thoughts have taken me on this topic thus far. I’m looking for some help getting past this roadblock. What do you think? The bottom line is that Jesus did not heal people for his own glory, and he even healed some who never even thanked him or his Father. It doesn’t seem like his investment in people was only about what he or his religion can get out of it. What about just showing people the love of God for its own sake?

• Culture , Economics , Politics
• Comments(3)

tom December 13th, 2007

One of the more disconcerting passages in all the Bible is the rape of Tamar, David’s daughter, by her half-brother Amnon (2 Samuel 13). As the narrative goes, Tamar is “loved” by her brother because he was tormented by her beauty. He feigns an illness to be alone with Tamar. When she brings him food to eat, he seizes her and rapes her despite her fervent resistance. After the rape, Amnon loathes his sister more than he ever “loved” her. He thrusts her away as a slave, a piece of property which was expended and now retains no value. To Amnon, she is no longer “Tamar,” she is now “this woman.” She is no longer a person who is “loved,” she is chattel to be discharged.¹

Amnon learned this behavior from his father – that is, he learned to treat people, especially women, as property instead of humans created in God’s image. Just in the previous chapter David is finally confronted about his rape of Bathsheba and his clandestine execution of Uriah. People and their lives were mere objects to be consumed to David. He cared little for love, for family, for holiness. He cared only for consumption, and people are just another thing to be procured, retain, owned, and conquered.

What I find interesting in this whole matter is how intercourse and economics relate. As the narrative advances, we find Solomon, in the climax of his rule, with infinite wealth and thousands of sex-slaves. Women are objects to be owned – he too learned this from his father. Relationships, love, or devotion have no place in his world. Only objects exist, objects which are bought and sold, owned and operated, controlled and dominated.²

When economics and power become the chief agenda of a people, the objectification of others comes to dictate the landscape. This is particularly the case with sex. Sex becomes nothing more than, in our world, two consumers devouring one another, envision the other as an item whose individual purpose is to satisfy my desires without regards to the consequences of this behavior. That’s what consumerism is at its nastiest – a inexhaustible sport of stockpiling objects for one’s own agenda without considering the consequences of that consumption either for the earth, the other person, the community, or the world. It’s all about the ego.

Intercourse and economics – isn’t staggering how a person’s view on one stimulates certain assumptions about the other? When one views economics as merely a means of consumption and gaining wealth, power, and property, one will perceive sex the same way. But if economics is principally about honoring God through the giving away of one’s possessions, one will see sex differently as well. It is not about my desires, it is not about my consumption; it is about the other person, their will, their enjoyment, their desire. People are no longer objects to be owned and dominated (such as in pornography), they are people made in the Image of God! The denial of the ego in economic areas translates into the denial of the ego in the bedroom. This is why Paul lists greed right along side a bunch of sexual sins in Colossians 3. He realized the connection!

Its seems, then, that if we yearn for holiness, maybe our deity of covetousness and wealth ought to go first. If economics is linked to intercourse, imagine what else it is relates to – violence, anger, division, quarreling, pride! Maybe dispossession isn’t only about abnegation,³ but about sanctification in all areas of life.

1. there is some credence to the thought that this objectification of women is inherent within the Torah. After all, women are listed among the property not to be coveted in the 10 Commandments. [↩]
2. Solomon’s disregard for others in favor of his own economic advancement is well documented among biblical scholars. This actually ends up splitting the kingdom after he dies, if you remember. [↩]
3. Thanks Theotica! [↩]

• Economics , Ethics , Materialism , Othering , Sex
• Comments(5)