A response to defenses of evangelicalism

This post was inspired by a discussion that was generated from Cameron MacAllister’s note “Why I don’t call myself an Evangelical.”  Cameron is a good friend, and in response to his note, Carson Clark, another friend, and a tenacious debater, launched into a thorough defense of evangelicalism as a social and historical movement in America.  I thought the discussion needed to be moved elsewhere and  broadened a touch, so I decided to expound a tad on some of the thoughts I have had on the subject since being thrust forth from the birth canal of the academic world and into the “real world.”

What struck me this morning about the “debate” between Carson and myself was that it was mostly a discussion of words, context, and meaning.  It was, and is, an ongoing discussion of ideas.  Using words and ideas, Carson is, and has been, defending systems.  And therein lies the problem I have with the 21st century academic: words, ideas, and systems.  To a majority of Americans, and I would even venture to say, to a vast majority of humanity, the world of words, ideas, and systems falls second fiddle to the world of tangibility, perception, aesthetics, and of the senses.  We are thinking people, but we are a sensory people as well.  We construct the world in the mind, but also through our vision, our hearing, our smelling, and our physical feeling.

Only connect: the poetry and the prose, the man of action with the man of thought.  God bless you E.M Forster.  Call the ‘poetry’ the man of thought, the defender of the world of ideas.  Call the ‘prose’ the man of action, who deals in tangibility.  The two must be married.  When our debates and arguments never join with the world around us, what are they?  Mere and meaningless intellectual debate.  That said, if the aesthetic world never joins with the world of ideas, what do we have?  Hedonism?

I have no interest in defending evangelicalism.  Like Cameron, I do not consider myself an evangelical.  As I have said on more than one occasion, to me it seems that the term evangelical is not worth saving.  It is a term and, contextually as well as colloquially, in America it is a pejorative term.  Christian, too, is often a pejorative in America and in many parts of the world.  For lack of a better or broader term, I consider myself a Christian, and therefore, I have a bit of an obligation to defend it.  Applying my critique of the evangelical debate, how does one move beyond a defense of Christianity that only takes place in the world of words, ideas, and systems?  Connect it to the aesthetic world.

Peter, the retired gentlemen who I have started playing chess with down at the local coffee shop, is not interested in an intellectual debate or defense of Christianity, or any other system for that matter.  He wants to see that it works.  He wants to feel its positive effect on his life.  It is time for evangelicals and Christians to drop the intellectual debate and start living and breathing their faith.  The same is true for any follower of any movement, but all the more so for the followers of a pejorative movement like Christianity.  I could run you through the ringer with debate or “apologetics” but unless you see it and experience it my arguments will not move you. In contrast, my actions should speak for themselves.

I say this, and I think I mean it: there is no place for the pure intellectual.  Get out from behind that book, get out from the classroom, and learn from the man on the street.  I’ve learned more in the last year from Larry McCoy than I have from any preacher behind his pulpit.

a girl i met

Welcome to Center Township.  Welcome to Oswego, Cato, New York.  Welcome to Aliquippa, PA, population 400.  Welcome to humanity, to brotherhood.  Welcome to earth.

 

Tonight there is a girl.  She is someone’s daughter (four, twelve, forty years, it doesn’t matter).

 

A man puts his cigarette out in her face.  A crowd laughs.  Tomorrow it will be a dirty diaper smeared upon her forehead, her pants stained with sweat and urine.

 

She knocks on your door, asking to use your washer and dryer, maybe just for some money for the bus.

 

She’s looking for a hit.  She’ll give you anything you want for it, let you do anything to her for it.  Yes, sexually.  Fulfill your fantasies.

 

Degrade her, beat her.  Just ignore the man who does.  It makes no difference.

 

Homo homini lupus.  Man, to man, is a wolf.

 

The crowd looks on and laughs.

 

They’ve strung it to a fishing line and are charging free admission to the show.  She chases it through the crowd while they laugh and cheer.  It’s the coliseum out here. When is the Steelers game?

 

Her father watches as she chases her next hit.  He watches the crowd treat her worse than an animal and he does nothing.

 

He does nothing.  I do nothing.  He does nothing.  God, I’ve decided, is a joke sometimes.

 

Now they are lighting a fire.  It is her freshly chopped hair.  Scalped, she smells like human waste as the fire burns.  The crowd looks on and laughs.

 

I am not an ounce better.  While there is a lower class, I am in it, and while there is a criminal element I am of it, and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.

 

Go Penguins?

a letter to Jason Altmire

apologia: Some might have questions about my decision to write to Congressman Jason Altmire concerning the current Gaza situation.  I admit, I have struggled with several questions.  What is my motivation?  Will it do any good?  What can Altmire actually do?

As one who tries to follow Jesus of Nazareth, I’ve struggled with my role as as a ‘citizen’ of the United States.  I tend to ally with the Anabaptist traditions concerning the church’s relation to the nations of this world.  My beliefs are still being formed, but I definitely look with skepticism at the nations, including the United States.  I believe my ultimate citizenship is of an invisible nation, the kingdom of God.  At the same time, I cannot deny that Jesus seems to teach that we must be responsible citizens of this world.  I did not ask to be a US citizen, but I am one, and therefore I must be the best citizen that I can possibly be.  All too often Christians suggest this just means voting.  Well, I did not vote this year because I found it impossible to endorse any candidate for any office.  I do however, strive to obey the laws of this land, including the speed limit.  I think citizenship goes far beyond the political, and enters the social and economic realms as well.  I keep informed on what is happening politically, but it generally just saddens me.  It is a corrupt system run by money and power which stands in opposition to the service, sacrifice and submission taught by Jesus.

So comes the present crisis, which is just one of many which constantly hail us.  Why has this situation pushed me to actually write a letter to a congressman?  It is not so much the present crisis so much as the current state of my life.  I have written before of my ideals and my struggles to manifest them in action.  How do we connect the man of thought with the man of action?  How do we live out our convictions?  I think the unification between ideals and action is something that takes a lifetime.  I am getting better, I hope, slowly.  Gradually, I hope that I will be able to share my opinions and convictions solely through action.  And so this letter is just one of my baby steps in that journey.

One last thought, I believe that the nature of democracy demands protest.  All governments claim to be serving their people, whether their leader is Hugo Chavez, Mohmoud Amidinijad, or Barack Obama.  The United States claims to be doing all of its actions in the name of the American people.  Well, what when they do things in my name that I do not, indeed, cannot endorse?  I have a right and an obligation to speak out, and so I will attempt to.

The letter: So I have composed this letter to Jason Altmire and I placed it in the mail today.

January 7, 2009

Dear Congressman Altmire,

It is under the gravest and most sobering of circumstances that I feel compelled to write to you this letter.  Today marks the twelfth day of an Israeli offensive in the Gaza Strip.  While the British Prime Minister has called the situation a “humanitarian crisis,” this could easily be seen as a politically charged understatement.  Women and children, who were living their lives normally two weeks prior, are now dead.  We hear about them in numbers, but their loss will be grieved by family until their memory too parishes.

And what of the international response to this crisis?  It appears that the United States will continue to support the Israeli offense in the region, arguing that Israel has a right to defend itself. Tell me, how long can the argument of self-defense be used to destroy the homes and lives of innocent civilians?  Some nations, like Great Britain, have verbally condemned the attacks.  Though their motives are no doubt questionable, only Venezuela has taken serious action in the situation through their removal of Israel’s foreign ambassador from their country.

Israel’s aggression and blatant disregard for civilian life must be brought to accountability.  Those responsible for the targeting, of innocent civilians and schools must be tried for war crimes. Likewise, those who ignore the humanitarian crisis, which is already present in Gaza, must be held responsible.

You, Congressman Altmire, have been elected at this time, for such an occasion as this.  You represent the American people.  I write to you as both a citizen of this nation, and as a citizen of humanity.  As both I urge you, by the means you have been grated by your office, to push for international accountability in this crisis.  Already your fellow congressman, Dennis Kucinich, is appealing that existing law be upheld and that Israel be held culpable for their breeches of humanitarian law.  I ask you to do what justice and mercy demands, by the power granted you by your election to office.

It is with sincere request that I conclude this appeal,

Dean Baldwin

Mount Washington Winter Travels

I’ll be taking a break from my series on young evangelical identity to share a bit about my Christmas trip. This Christmas my whole immediate family, my two parents, my older brother, my older sister and her husband and niece, and myself, all got together up at the house we grew up in back in Cato, New York. Since the seven of us hardly get to be together, seeing as we all live in different areas, it is always special to all be in the same place.

I was the last of the family to arrive late Christmas eve. I volunteered to work Christmas Eve at Starbucks because I was under the impression that I would be earning time-and-a-half. I didn’t find out, of course, that I would not be until after the schedule was already posted. I was scheduled to work a ten hour shift and close the store at 7:00PM. I wasn’t able to hit the road until around 7:30PM, so I didn’t get home until a bit after 1:00AM Christmas morning.

Last to arrive, first to leave, Jeremiah (my sister’s husband) and I had made plans this Christmas to travel to New Hampshire and climb Mount Washington, the tallest mountain in the Northeastern United States. We were going to leave Christmas evening around 6:00PM travel about seven hours to a hotel in New Hampshire, crash for the night, and then head to the mountain early the next morning. In the morning we’d head to North Conway, rent the last of our equipment, and head up the mountain. A couple hours from the summit, we’d camp. The next day, weather permitting, we’d head for the summit. If all went well, we’d head back to New York after summiting and hiking back down.

Mount Washington is actually the sight where the fastest wind speed was ever recorded on earth’s surface back in 1934. The mountain is known for its wild wind speed and shifting weather patterns. Knowing these details, and others, our biggest concern for the trip was weather, which was, of course, completely out of our control. My brother-in-law, Jeremiah, spent some time last summer at AMS training in mountaineering. He has even been picked to be part of a team to summit Denali (Mt. McKinley). He and I decided to do this Mt. Washington trip in order to help him get ready for Denali next summer. We’d been planning the trip for months, gathering equipment, making arrangements…

The best laid plans of mice and men…

Everything for our trip was going perfectly well…until we left. We pulled out of the driveway at right around six. Minutes down Watkins road (the road I grew up on) our car’s dashboard lights went out. No big deal right? Just a short of some kind…We were driving my mom’s Subaru Outback, so we decided to give her a quick call to see if this was ever an issue that she’d had and whether or not she had any tricks to get them to come back on. Dashboard lights are kind of essential for driving at night, it’s important to see how much gas you have, and your speedometer. Well, we called and she had nothing for us, so we fiddled with some things and were able to figure out a way to get the lights to come back on if they were to go off again (which they did, naturally). Under normal circumstances, you’d think nothing of your dash lights having a short circuit, especially in a ten year old car, right? Well, hindsight is proved 20/20; the dash lights were an omen, an omen that we turn around immediately.

Would that we had heeded!

Our next incident was not for a good 45 minutes down the road. Heading east on New York’s Thruway, Jeremiah suddenly realized he forgot his orange fleece jacket, an item made essential due to the cold temperatures we were expecting to face. He asked me to call the house and maker sure he’d forgotten it. Phoning my father, it was confirmed. The jacket was hanging in the kitchen. Jeremiah would have to rent a new jacket or something comparable in North Conway.

All in all, the forgotten jacket was not a huge deal, but added to the dash lights, it was another omen of our ill luck, or absence of luck.

During the course of the conversation with my father, I began to feel a bit nauseous. I asked Jeremiah to stop at the next thruway rest stop. An hour into our travels, we stopped at a thruway stop. My head was spinning, I knew I was about to vomit, I only hoped that I would make it to the restroom in time. Once in a stall, I immediately and violently began vomiting. It felt like gallons. It felt like I vomited all of Christmas dinner. It felt like I vomited all dinners from previous Christmases. It felt like it would never stop. But, the flow did stop eventually and suddenly, and afterward I felt like a million bucks. I wasn’t sure what that was, but I knew I felt fine now, and so we pressed on. I told Jeremiah about getting sick, but I seemed fine and felt fine so we figured whatever it was had passed.

So we drove on into the night anticipating the glorious mountain…

For another hour…

Until I had to vomit again…

And then the diarrhea began…

Three hours from home, believing ourselves halfway to the hotel, we discussed the best course of action. I felt better after using the bathroom, we were both sure I’d feel fine in the morning. We’d be kicking ourselves if we turned back now and then I felt fine the next day, so we decided to continue our journey.

Crossing into Vermont we left the interstates behind and began traveling on smaller state routes. Vermont and New Hampshire aren’t the easiest states to get from place to place in. We wound through hills, forests, and miniature towns. This part of the trip seems dreamlike to me; my mental energy was all focused on not throwing up and not excreting diarrhea in my pants. At one point, while I was anxious to find a gas station, we past three that were closed for the night. Finally, we had to pull over and as the car was coming to a stop I hung my head out the moving door into the winter air and threw up in someone’s driveway. My body lurched, convulsed; all that came out was water, but I continued to vomit about every hour or so.

Not to belabor the tale much further, we finally rolled into our hotel at close to two in the morning, day after Christmas. I threw up for the last time immediately after I made it into the hotel bathroom. I’d spend the entire night waking up every 30-40 minutes for diarrhea though. After struggling through the night, Jeremiah and I decided to return to New York with our tails between our legs. Even if my diarrhea were to stop, I was dehydrated and exhausted from the night before. We were demoralized, but we had little choice. I grabbed my cell phone to call home…

Which is when the next series of unfortunate events began…

My cell phone, which I’ve had now for almost two years, has never had a problem holding a charge. I even brought a spare charger with me, but my phone picked now, picked today, picked this hellish voyage to stop charging.

And then we noticed the car’s tires were low…

And then we were cut off by crazy New Hampshire drivers and nearly killed…twice.

And then the check engine light came on…

And the diarrhea kept a’flowin’.

I am happy to say that we did finally make it home, each in one piece, more or less, and actually in decent time (on the way back). We enjoyed looking at the countryside; I’d like to visit Vermont and New Hampshire sometime when I am healthy.

What was I saying about the plans of mice and men? Oh yeah, they often go awry, as this story demonstrates. Sort of like my post-college plans. Pretty much everything that could’ve gone wrong with Jeremiah and I did go wrong. All my post-college plans have likewise dissolved.

I dropped out of graduate school. My girlfriend of about two years and I broke up a few weeks ago. The art program(s) I was working on have fallen through for several reasons. I’m definitely not at the place I planned on being. But, I suppose ounce you quit vomiting at least you can enjoy the journey. Back when I was reading For the Time Being by Annie Dillard I learned that the Talmud contains a prayer of thanksgiving even upon learning of bad news or evil. When seeing a deformed human being, for example, they would mutter something to the effect of, “Blessed art Thou, LORD our God, Master of the Universe, the only true judge.” I’m not sure if that is exact, but the principle is there: they try to make sense of life’s sorrows, and try to cultivate a sense of gratitude for any and everything that comes their way. They cultivate an attitude that God uses everything for his ultimate redemptive purpose. I think that is a virtue worth cultivating.

So, as disappointed as I was not to get to the summit of Mount Washington, “Blessed art Thou, LORD our God, Master of the Universe, the only true judge.” I got to spend some quality time with my brother-in-law, and I got to see my family (including my beautiful 11 month old niece) for longer than I expected to. I didn’t die.

And, though my post-collegiate plans have all faded, I’m learning a lot these days. I’m making some great friends. I’m reading some great material.

May you enjoy a quiet mind this New Year!

young evangelicals: an identity crisis (part 2 – nature)

I fully intend to explore this topic more fully in subsequent posts, but I’m itching to get something out before I explode.  Aaron Pluim was definitely correct in his assertions that we write (or blog) in order to achieve some level of catharsis.  I write to clear my head most of the time.

Allow me to get back to the point: I’ve been thinking about nature ever since I was a child.  I was raised in the beautiful hills of upstate New York’s Finger Lakes region.  I spent hours and hours in the maple wood forest behind my house.  My dad’s hobby/art has always been vegetable gardening.  I grew up, consequently, and incidentally, much closer to nature than many of my counterparts:  a majority of Americans live in cities and suburbs.

The topic of nature has had renewed personal interest with me because of several recent developments in my life.  For starters, I just moved from the southern Appalachians of Northeast Georgia (where I spent four years of college), to an urban setting just outside of Pittsburgh.  I can no longer walk out my door and encounter nature in the form of running water and mountain trails.  I’ve also been reading Annie Dillard and Wendell Berry, who both talk frequently about creation.

In Dillard’s For the Time Being I encountered a certain term for the first time: panentheism. Unlike traditional theism that espouses that God is totally separate from creation, or traditional pantheism that equates God with creation, pan-en-theism appears to be some form of hybrid.   God has created all things, and is in all things, while at the same time preexisting creation and remaining distinct from creation (wow, wrap your head around that…so much for plain talk about religion!).

I don’t really know much about panentheism.  I’ve started discussing the topic with some eastern orthodox believers.  I think, and you’re welcome to correct me, that the eastern and oriental orthodox christian  traditions hold to beliefs comparable to panentheism.  I also think, incidentally, that Wendell Berry holds a comparable stance toward nature.

So what?  Well, think about it, doesn’t the notion that God is part of his creation (which makes sense from a creator/creation, artist/art standpoint in my mind), and that the creation is somehow part of God, have drastic implications on how we treat the natural world?  Wouldn’t we quit poisoning the planet?  Wouldn’t we sorrow for what we’ve done to God’s living, including plants, animals, and his physical creation?  God created the world and called it good.  An artist creates a painting and finds value in it.  In both situations, a part of the creator has merged with the creation.  To trash the creation is to insult and reject a part of the creator.

Perhaps it is the protestant traditionally theistic view of God and Nature that has allowed us to become so divorced from the natural world.  If God created the world and no longer has a vested interest in its vitality, then why wouldn’t we rob creation to shit (which is what we are doing, and whats worse, we’ve come so far we don’t know how to revert–that is pointing the finger at myself here too).

That’s enough for now…

young evangelicals: an identity crisis (part 1)

Alright, so I’ve  learned that some people actually read my blog.  That gives me some satisfaction (even though half read it because they know me, and half stumble upon it by accident).

I’ve been thinking about the topic of young evangelical identity lately as a possible paper topic for a conference being held at my Alma Mater.  Carson Clark, a friend of mine who is organizing the event, asked me to participate, though I’m not sure I will.

Regardless of whether I submit a paper or not, the idea of young evangelical identity has been fermenting in my mind recently.  Since graduating from a very conservative evangelical Bible college, I have had some time to think.  For me, and for several of my friends, attending a Christian college like Toccoa was one of the most difficult experiences of my life.  Surrounded by Christians I found myself feeling alone, especially when it came to issues I found important (reverence, art/aesthetics, pacifism/non-violence, social issues, environmental concern/sustainability, church history, racial reconciliation).

Over the course of college, I had several friends who felt the same way.  One converted to Anglicanism, one to Catholicism, and one is seriously considering Eastern Orthodoxy.  I knew of several others who considered themselves post-modern Christians (whatever that means,  I guess they were aligning more with McClaren, etc.).  At the same time I was reading material like Irresistible Revolution by other young evangelicals who were calling themselves a New Monasticism.  And then there were my friends who left the faith completely…With my interest in the anabaptist faith then, here were a handful of young evangelicals that I knew, or knew of, who were literally flocking to everything save the faith they were raised in.

This past month I had the opportunity to visit another fairly conservative Christian college out in Indiana.  I was intrigued to discover that there were several folks out there having the same conversations and issues regarding the evangelical faith they were brought up in.  I stayed for four days with a couple of guys, one was in the process of being confirmed in the catholic faith, the other was working as a catholic minister, both were raised evangelical protestant.

My hypotheses is that this is a nationwide trend.  Young evangelicals are leaving the faith in droves.  They are becoming catholics, anabaptists, emergents, anglicans, eastern orthodox, and new monastics in order to become better disciples of Jesus.  I’m not sure all that is involved in this radical departure from the faith of our youth, but I have some ideas which I hope to explore in later posts:

• The American evangelical protestant expression of Christianity seriously lacks an appreciation for mystery, beauty, and art: Most (if not all) of the people I’ve met firsthand who have left the faith, have been artists of one kind or another.  I think this is a serious issue and I’ll explore that later.
• The American evangelical protestant expression of Christianity has all but aligned itself with outright support of unjust and economically motivated wars, and our American culture of violence and “right to self-defense” (I think this trend is slowly changing).
• The American evangelical protestant expression of Christianity has adopted the American ahistorical culture.  We are disconnected from the previous generation, and every generation prior to our own.  “Church History” means, all to often, studying the Book of Acts.  We have little or no knowledge of the saints or much of the rest of Christian history.  This has created a movement wide identity crisis: we call ourselves evangelical but we don’t know what that means or where we come from (though we call it Luther and brag about the 95 Theses).
• The American evangelical protestant expression of Christianity is divorced from nature (again, like the predominant American culture).  As Wendell Berry has wisely, and simply, put it, “Land that is used will be ruined unless it is properly cared for.”  The story of America has been the exploitation of our natural resources, and of all people, God fearers should be most appalled by the damaging of his creation which is under our care.

Someone said christmas was a christian holiday…

they must have meant capitalistic.

Godspell

This post is not about the film, nor the Broadway production per se, but last night I did attend a rendition of Godspell put on by the Huntington University Theatre Company.  They updated the show with contemporary pop-culture references (Pirates of the Caribbean, Spongebob Squarepants, Survivor, Lost, Cast Away, etc.).  The original Godspell featured Jesus as a Harlequin, surrounded by a following of clowns, something that has been highly controversial, and it did take me just a little while to get used to a hippy/pirate Jesus.  I think what did it for me was the first act, which was the entire sermon on the mount.

As I was sitting in the audience listening to the words of Jesus, and seeing them taught and acted out, I got to thinking about Jesus’ most famous sermon.  You know what?  I don’t know that I have ever heard a sermon on the Sermon on the Mount.  In fact, Jesus’ words are taught infrequently in the churches I have been attending, at least in comparison to the words of Paul, John, Timothy, and some of the Old Testament books.  The Sermon on the Mount seems to be a good summary of the bulk of Jesus’ teachings, so why wouldn’t that be taught all the time?  And, considering that the great commission includes teaching everything Jesus commanded, wouldn’t the Sermon on the Mount be a great place to start?  Why is a theatre troupe more bold with Jesus’ teachings than the church?

Returning to the show last night, I think one of the greatest strengths of the production was the tonal shifts.  The humor, pop-references, quirky voices, excellent music, and the thrilling physicality of the choreography really captured the audience.  Then, all of a sudden, especially in the second act, the audience would find itself caught off guard completely by the gravity of some of Jesus’ words.  The second act really bounces the audience around, and when it is time for the last supper and the crucifixion, the bouncing leaves you just a bit shocked.  The rendering of the Crucifixion last night was powerful and moving, eerie and electric (literally).  The use of the arts, especially in a humorous way, can really break down a person’s barriers and defenses.  Some might consider this manipulative, but I think if this power of the arts is used in a positive way it can really help to create critical awareness and help individuals become better people.

If you are interested in checking out Huntington’s tour dates or reading the Theatre Company’s blog, you can check it out here: http://godspell08.blogspot.com/

the unexamined life and contemporary art

Socrates asserts it in Plato’s Myth of the Cave, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” A life that is approached thoughtlessly is pointless, banal, and asinine. This seems to be an idea that is foreign to our culture (21st century America), and I think this can be best demonstrated in the way we approach art (by art I am referring to almost all human creation intended for an audience. This includes fine arts as well as common arts in the form of our television programs, popular novels, and contemporary music.  While I would certainly not call pornography art, it falls under the category of human culture and can be included in this discussion.). I’m not here to bash anyone’s favorite television show, or pop-artist, or whatever, but I wonder how often we stop to look at what contemporary art is saying?

Of course, this question precludes the notion that art does, in fact, say something.

How does one determine whether art is saying something or not? In other words, how does one determine whether art has meaning or not? I would venture to say that we determine whether art has meaning in the same way we determine whether life itself has meaning, through interpretation. To say whether or not life has meaning without examining evidence from the surrounding world is a preposterous, thoughtless, and ignorant thing to do. Likewise, to say that art does or does not have meaning is equally ludicrous. Before judgment can be made on either the meaning of life (or absence of), or meaning of art, they must be examined.

I’ve had this discussion with some of my friends, and some of them sort of get this smirk on their face and then suggest that art is not meant to be thought about. “I don’t watch movies, read books, or listen to music to think; I approach art and like art that makes me feel good; I can’t explain why I like it, it just moves me.” Granted, maybe my analytical temperament might cause me to approach art differently than some people, but isn’t the way we approach art indicative of the way we approach life? If life can be interpreted in order to find meaning or the absence of meaning, can not, and should not, art too be interpreted to find meaning or the absence of meaning?

I’ve heard it suggested that all art is propaganda, in that it propagates certain ideas. Whether one thinks this is true or not, the only way to determine it is to attempt to interpret the art in question. Before one can say, “this piece of art doesn’t say anything” one must attempt to listen to, see, or read what the art in question says.

This is an area that the Church in America, to my experience, has neglected. I’ve never heard a sermon on this; I’ve never heard it discussed in a Bible study. I’ve heard Ravi Zacharias, Peter Kreeft, and certain other Christian philosophers and intellectuals discuss this, but it seems like these ideas have not really filtered down to the everyday Christian. Why is this important? Christians are people who claim that life is infused with meaning. Life itself, the created world, is said to proclaim the very existence of God (Psalm 19). Paul seems to suggest that if we interpret the created world correctly, we we have no excuse to deny God’s existence. If the very earth can be interpreted because it was created by God, how much more so can human creation be interpreted! Not to mention, we are told abhor what is evil and to hold fast to what is good (Romans 12:9), that the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true (Ephesians 5:9), and we are told:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

How are we to know whether something is good unless we attempt to interpret it? No one who wants to live a meaningful life can approach life without examining it. How much more so should a Christian, who claims that there is meaning in life, and that this meaning is knowable, approach life in a thoughtful way. The way we examine art is indicative of the way we examine reality itself. One cannot believe in true existence without believing that life, and art, must be interpreted.

Why we use the phrase “social justice”

After my last post I received an email from someone who I believe was a very well intentioned individual. They expressed some reasons why conservative Christians often have a very negative reaction when people, like myself, throw around phrases such as “social justice” when referring to working with the poor, or in the case of my last post, Christian peacemaking efforts. He suggested that this reaction is often because they have too often heard it used as code for liberal social policies which he believes actually contribute to the problems by looking to the Government as a secular Messiah rather than stressing the teaching of individual responsibility which is actually required to make a long-term difference. To quote him directly, “It seems that what you are really talking about is not social justice–as if the poor somehow deserve to have the effects of their irresponsible decisions ameliorated–but social grace.” Now, before my socially conscious readers react too strongly to this, let me just say that I have no doubt that this person is incredibly well meaning. And he is correct in pointing out that some people are poor because of their own bad choices. He also believes that regardless of the reason why someone is poor, or in a rough situation, a Christian is still called to be compassionate.

What I think he fails to recognize, and I do not think he is alone in this failure, is that those of us who seek social justice are not trying to pardon people who have made bad choices. We simply acknowledge that people do not make bad choices in a vacuum. The young man who has young children, and fails to adequately provide for them, and is accused of objectifying women, is the same young man who was exposed to pornography before he went to kindergarten. The addict who prostitutes herself to get a three dollar hit of crack-cocaine is the same woman whose boyfriend began lacing her cigarettes with crack in order to get her addicted. People make bad choices, but there are also systems of evil in place that encourage these bad choices. Social justice is concerned with exposing these systems that encourage people to make evil choices. To deny personal responsibility is to deny moral reality, but to deny that these systems exist is an equal denial of moral reality.

Injustice in the social realm exists.

• It is an injustice when African-American minors are 48 times more likely to be incarcerated for the same crimes that their white counterparts commit.
• It is an injustice when inmates are forced to manufacture lingerie for companies like Victoria’s Secret for about a dollar an hour.
• It is an injustice when Palestinians are denied their natural rights because of Israeli occupation.
• It is an injustice when the poor of our country have no representation in government because it costs so much to run a political campaign.
• It is an injustice when alcohol and tobacco companies spend disproportionate amounts of money to target youth and minorities in poor communities.
• It is an injustice when our military uses depleted uranium munitions which causes radioactive materials to enter people’s food and water systems.
• It is an injustice when almost 900 Palestinian minors have been killed by Israeli security forces since September of 2000.
• It is an injustice when our nation, one of the key figures in the United Nations and a signer of the U.N. charter, willfully breaks U.N. policy by executing minors, waging preemptive war, and torturing prisoners.
• It is an injustice when U.S. soldiers rape and murder Iraqi women and murder their families and are not held accountable for it.
• It is an injustice when American Christians sit back and do not hold their government to accountability in these areas.
• It is an injustice when Americans are overweight and obese when millions in the world are starving.

If these are not examples of social injustice and oppression then I do not know what are. These are the reasons we use the term “social justice.”