Diana Butler Bass: June 2009 Archives

With yesterday's shooting at the Holocaust museum, I was reminded of a story told to me several years ago by a professor of when he had been a doctoral student. 

An eminent post-modern theologian had come to his university to deliver a lecture on morality.  The guest insisted that morality was completely embedded in culture, "and that there was nothing that was universally wrong from one culture to another.  "Nothing," he insisted, "there is nothing that has been wrong in all places, all times, and to all people."  Then he added, "I dare you.  I dare you to tell me one thing--one thing--that is always wrong!"

My friend, whom I knew to be a liberal Democrat and was also a serious Methodist, rather sheepishly raised his hand.  "You there," the famous lecturer called on him, "can you tell me something that is always morally wrong?"  The young student responded shakily, "I think so.  One shouldn't burn Jews in ovens?"

The post-modern theologian stopped, and he looked as Paul might have on the road to Damascus.  "That's right," he thundered.  "One shouldn't burn Jews in ovens.  That is one, universally true moral principle." 

Well, there it is.  A universal moral principle--along with a corresponding principle, "One shouldn't walk into the Holocaust museum and start shooting people."

Yesterday, all of the news commentators agreed that James W. Von Brunn's action was morally wrong.  And, whenever a criminal breaks violates the communal moral conscience, everybody asks, "Why?"  What was the source of his evil?  Where did he go wrong?  What triggered this episode?

As pundits discuss these questions on the airwaves, their answers will fall into two predictable camps.  Conservatives will emphasize that Von Brunn was a "lone wolf," a deeply troubled man, who, acted on a bad belief (hatred of Jews) and made a bad choice (to pick up a gun and shoot people).   Liberals will analyze anti-Semitism, placing Von Brunn's actions within a larger framework of structural sin involving racism.  Some may also comment on institutional sins--gun control laws, the current economic crisis, and the "climate" created by talk radio for example--as sources of Von Brunn's actions. 

This is, of course, an old argument.  For almost a century, conservatives and liberals have been arguing the same point about sin.  Conservative theologians believed that sin is a personal matter, a choice made to break a moral code, usually based in some flawed belief system; liberal theologians believed that sin resulted from structural evils, whereby people act out of subservience to some form of institutionalized sin.  Hence, conservative sought to reform individuals while liberals sought to reform systems.  What made someone sin?  The soul or structure?  The individual or institution?  And this theological division made its way into political life--and it has shaped the way we argue about moral events in our public discourse.

In the 1990s, biblical scholar Walter Wink wrote a series of books arguing a new progressive understanding of sin.  He suggested that Christian theologians needed to re-engage the ancient biblical idea of the "principalities and powers,"

In the biblical view the Powers are at one and the same time visible and invisible, earthly and heavenly, spiritual and institutional . . . the Powers are simultaneously an outer, visible structure and an inner, spiritual reality. (Wink, The Powers That Be)

In other words, sin--the "powers" are both.  They exist in the malformed soul and are intrinsically tied up in the ways in which the world and culture are structured.  Everything--and everybody--has both good and evil within. 

This integrated understanding of sin goes a long way to help understand Von Brunn, where inner and outer "powers" combined to push him toward a form of racial idolatry and personal wickedness that resulted in killing another person.  But an integrated understanding of sin also begs the question:  Where was I in this story?  What do I do to resist these dehumanizing powers?  What systems and structures that I am part of perpetuate the evil from which Von Brunn acted?  (Talk radio hosts, take note....)

To say that Von Brunn was a lone gunman in a lone incident misses the point.  However, to say that D.C. has weak control laws (which were recently weakened by the NRA) also misses the point.  Von Brunn lived--as all of us do--in a complex, connected web of unredeemed powers that act as a cancer in the world. 

Walter Wink proposed that:

Redemption means actually being liberated from the oppression of the Powers, being forgiven for one's own sin and for complicity with the Powers, and setting about liberating the Powers themselves from their bondage to idolatry.  The good news is nothing less than a cosmic salvation, a restitution of all things, when God will "gather up all things in Christ, things in heaven and things on earth". . . The gospel, then, is not a message about the salvation of individuals from the world, but news about a world transfigured, right down to its basic structures. (Wink, Powers That Be)

Progressive Christianity is in no way a morally relativistic vision; instead, it is emerging as a morally integrated theology.  We need to examine all the powers-at-play in Von Brunn's reprehensive moral act--to name and resist the Powers is one way to transformation.   It is wrong--in every case, everywhere, for everyone, and every institution--to target people and deny them basic human dignity because of their race, ethnicity, religion, gender, and sexual identity.  And equally wrong to let the "little" sins that contribute to the bigger evils to pass unchallenged.  

Following the President's Cairo University speech a number of journalists commented that it was a political speech and not very "religious."  Indeed, one referred to his policy remarks as "wonky" in which he primarily addressed seven areas of tension that exist between the United States and Muslims around the world.

The President moved the discussion ahead to shared political concerns relating to peace, economic development, and human rights.   And the tone was different, too.  In the Bush administration, speeches were often directed to Muslim people instead of coming from among them.  Patronizing language was banished from these remarks--as were such offensive concepts as crusades, fascism, competition, and "a clash of civilizations."  As I watched, my main feeling was of relief--and good riddance.  Let's get back to the mutually human business of building a peaceful world with maximum respect for all people.

In shifting the focus to policy, however, religion was present in a more subtle and helpful way than in the past.  President Obama moved the discussion of religion away from beliefs toward practices--away from creeds toward deeds.  The tone for this was set in the speech's first paragraph: 

I am honored to be in the timeless city of Cairo, and to be hosted by two remarkable institutions. For over a thousand years, Al-Azhar has stood as a beacon of Islamic learning, and for over a century, Cairo University has been a source of Egypt's advancement. Together, you represent the harmony between tradition and progress. I am grateful for your hospitality, and the hospitality of the people of Egypt. I am also proud to carry with me the goodwill of the American people, and a greeting of peace from Muslim communities in my country: assalaamu alaykum.

It is possible to read this as a rather perfunctory greeting, but that would be a mistake.  This opening paragraph was a nuanced piece of religious reflection that frames a Christian-Muslim dialogue differently than in the past.  It lifted up three spiritual practices shared by the two faiths:  1) learning as a path to both God and the good life; 2) the practice of hospitality; and 3) the exchange of peace.

The first practice--that of learning as a path to God and the good life--is one long honored in Islamic and Christian traditions.  A number of recent histories have argued that medieval Spain managed to create a relatively harmonious pluralism through the leadership of its religious scholars.  There, Jewish, Islamic, and Christian scholars sought commonality on the basis of new learning and intellectual curiosity rather than discrediting one another on their distinctive truth claims.  At their best, the monotheistic faiths share the heritage of "tradition and progress" affirmed by President Obama--a practice that both stands within a faith and yet lovingly pushes it at the same time.  Good, honest, open intellectual endeavor is part of the faithful life.

The second practice--hospitality--is the heart of all three monotheistic faiths.  In Genesis 18, Abraham and his family welcomed three strangers to their tents.  The three strangers were, according to the story, actually angels who affirm God's promise to make Abraham a nation of blessing to the whole earth.   Thus, in an act of hospitality was born Judaism, Christianity, and Islam--the act of welcoming the stranger both birthed and binds the three faiths into a single moral vision of reaching beyond fear and human barriers to welcome the stranger. To praise people for their hospitality is far more than saying, "thanks for the tea and cookies."  Rather, it is to affirm the deepest spiritual dimensions of religious identity. 

The third practice--the exchange of peace--is a symbol of reconciliation in Judaism, Islam, and Christianity.  To extend one's hand, open and without a weapon, is an ancient rite of trust and forgiveness.   "The peace of God" is an expression of the hope for a time when war shall be no more and that all God's people will live in harmony and unity.   The exchange of peace recognizes that we all called to live out the greater destiny of the universe to bring together of that which has been divided. 

Thus, the wonky policy speech was framed by the first paragraph's religious vision.  Obama essentially said, "We will no longer let our differing interpretations of truth divide us; rather, we will seek the common spiritual practices on which we can build a better world."   It is no longer about which one of us is right, and which of us is wrong.  Rather, a generative religious vision builds on faithful practices of people who honor each other's integrity.  And, the three core practices are: intellectual curiosity, hospitality, and reconciliation.     

Seems like a very good new beginning for all of us.