Preaching Peace

Disturbing & Disgusting

A Pew Research Poll on torture reported by CNN on April 30th:

"WASHINGTON (CNN) -- The more often Americans go to church, the more likely they are to support the torture of suspected terrorists, according to a new survey.

More than half of people who attend services at least once a week -- 54 percent -- said the use of torture against suspected terrorists is "often" or "sometimes" justified. Only 42 percent of people who "seldom or never" go to services agreed, according the analysis released Wednesday by the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life.

White evangelical Protestants were the religious group most likely to say torture is often or sometimes justified -- more than six in 10 supported it. People unaffiliated with any religious organization were least likely to back it. Only four in 10 of them did.

The analysis is based on a Pew Research Center survey of 742 American adults conducted April 14-21."

I sent this out to a number of folks mentioning that if anyone wondered about the connection between theology and ethics and why we here at Preaching Peace focus on theology, they should take news like this into consideration.  One of my friends simply replied "disturbing and disgusting."  Several others wrote back that they were "not surprised."   The good news in this report was that mainline denominations, Episcopalians, Lutherans and Presbyterians, had a much lower rate of the acceptance of torture as a viable method of gaining information from a suspected terrorist.

Denny Weaver once said to a group of folks attending a Nonviolent Atonement Seminar that "theology matters!"  Yes it does, even or especially in our postmodern world. The only way Evangelicals and Fundamentalists can support torture is because they have a god who supports it in the sacrificial death of Jesus and in a retributive eschatology. I am tempted to say that Evangelicalism is a heresy but I am certain that Christian Fundamentalism is.  How long can we sit around and simply accept the certainty of Fundamentalism? It is not Gospel and it is time to say so.  Who knows when the new American Inquisition will arise?

Michael

 

Advent After Easter?

Last evening my worship team for the class on liturgy I've been taking was assigned the task of leading an Advent service. It's been an oddly disconcerting experience to plan for Advent in the middle of Lent, and then to conduct the service in the midst of Easter, but such is the nature of the academic exercise. What  is lovely is that the service wasn't merely an academic exercise at all; in fact, the Holy Spirit put in a surprise appearance. Throughout our many weeks of preparation (you know a "committee" of 7 is going to take forever to get anything done!) we had discussed themes of waiting, yearning, and longing, and I seemed to be the lone voice crying out for pregnancy and birth imagery.  An amazing video display of scenes from nature that embodied this theme indirectly had been developed by one of my colleagues as a prelude to worship.  An image of a pregnant woman was included on the slides, but much anxiety was expressed as to whether or not it might be offensive in a worship setting. There were other images of fullness and gestation in the service- for example, a lighted chalice was used instead of the customary candles, conveying a marvelous sense of the light within- almost literally a womb of light- reminiscent of the beginning of John's gospel. The decision had been made to freeze the slideshow as worship began, providing a backdrop image behind the altar for the duration of the service.  The plan was to pause the video such that a simple image of budding remained on the screen. What happened instead was that two frames were superimposed on one another, something we didn't even know was possible in this age of computer accuracy. The image of a single branch with three pink buds appeared on the screen, and my colleague pressed "pause" to arrest that image as our focal point. Instead of pausing on the budding branch, the image of the pregnant woman appeared beneath the budding branch, giving us a softly focused dual image. We were confronted by a semi-profile view of full pregnancy with the budded branch gracefully over her, a trinitarian pregnancy. For this Advent service, it was an amazingly moving experience, linking Advent to Spring and what is happening all around us right now, not just in the official pre-Christmas season.  It was also a reminder that half the earth (at least the southern hemisphere!) customarily celebrates Advent in warm and green surroundings, extending our awareness of the life God brings into places beyond our own back yard.

I found this especially meaningful on a personal note. My father died last week, confronting my family and myself with the experience of death in the season of Easter.  This unexpected image of birth and new life in a venue I usually associate with cold and winter was a wonderful bridge; death, no matter how full the life of the deceased, has a stripped down, emptying feeling to it, something we are often eager to leave behind in winter as as we celebrate resurrection life at Easter.  The unplanned image on our Advent screen brought the promises of God into new focus, one that I found to be affirming, uplifting, and inspiring.  The image didn't last more than a few minutes; the "pause" function on the computer is apparently time limited, and ultimately the program shut down. But the gift was there- for all of us.

I'm not imparting "dividing the Red Sea" miracle status to this incident, but many of us were able to worship in a deeper way because of it and the way God worked through it to touch our end-of-semester hardened hearts. Who knew the Holy Spirit was techno-savvy?  She was surely on overdrive last night! Maranatha!

nancy hitt.

Susan Boyle Once More

I think it must have been Mary McKinney who brought my attention to the Susan Boyle video.  Whoever it was, I can't seem to get enough of it, I watch it every day sometimes multiple times.  I realize now it is not just her singing but the song she sang from Les Miserables.

Back in the mid 1990's Lorri took me for an anniversary weekend to see the play in New York City.  I confess that it was one of the few times in my life I have been redueced to a blubbering mass of tears.  The prayer of Jean Valjean at the end had me crying like I had just come from the womb.  And perhaps it is memories of that time or the lyrics of the song or Susan's larger than life performance, but I sit here at my computer and shed tears every time I listen.  No other artist has touched me as her singing of this song does.  Thank you Susan, you give me hope, that an ordinary guy who does his best to follow Jesus just might make a good difference.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Michael

Peace and Rhetoric

Several of my friends have observed lately that there is a disconnect between peace, peacemaking and rhetoric.  Perhaps the most egregious example is labeling.  In our postmodern politically correct climate labeling means naming a person or thing or behavior as bad or wrong; it includes sterotyping, pidgeon holing or otherwise assuming that a person can be fully described by a certain word or words.

I find myself in agreement with these concerns.  For example, is Obama wrong to shake hands with Chavez? Is Chavez a 'bad' person?' From the perspective of some, concerned with national security, the answer is obviously affirmative.  America has enemies and the President should be careful not to cow-tow to it's political enemies.  On the other hand is there not a certain hidden (gospel) wisdom in making peace with one's enemies? 

Was Bush a 'bad' President?  Is the Pope too 'conservative' for the modern world? Is Bernard Madoff to be despised? How about the killers of families or innocents in schools?  Are Bill O'Reilly or Rush Limbaugh loud mouthed jackasses?  Does it help the situation when we label anyone or anything so as to differentiate them?

I must confess to a certain confliction here.  I am reminded of Menninger's Whatever Happened to Sin?  In our post modern, post Christian, post everything world, where relativism reigns, where truth is in the eye of the teller, where language games mean that words no longer mean anything, words that offend or critique are eshewed.  We have learned that words create worlds, that the N word, for example is racist and indicitive of a racist attitude, that calling people of different sexual orientation the F word indicates a lack of tolerance, etc.  I agree.

So how then shall we discuss those things that are for us, improper, incorrect or 'wrong?'  How can we name another's behavior without assigning them to a box or worse to some kind of eternal punishment? How shall we use our words to indicate distinctions without our words becoming distractions? 

If I find myself in substantive disagreement with someone, how can I describe that disagreement without creating an unbridgeable chasm by labeling them as 'outside?' 

I have some thoughts on this.  First and foremost is that when I am in disagreement with someone, I must be aware that sometimes that disagreement is on the surface, in fact, it may just be linguistic. Probing deeper, I may find that we are on the same page, just having different ways of describing the same thing.  Sometimes this is not the case.  When I find myself in major disagreement with someone's behavior or intellectual framework, I am first of all reminded that the gospel calls me to love the Other.  This does not mean whitewashing or ignoring the difference.  It does mean saying what I mean without being mean.  Second, it also means means that I could be wrong and have something new to learn which suggests that humility in the face of the Other is essential to dialogue. Third, it presupposes that I respect the Other enough to leave them in their position no matter how much I disagree with them. I try to persuade but I stay away from cajoling.

Now a final thought that to some will seem completely incongruent with what I have just written. Labels (e.g., conservative or liberal) perform a shorthand function.  So if I say I disagree with the conservative doctrine of inspiration, this is shorthand for that particular way of describing the relationship of revelation to language that has a history from the 17th to the 20th centuries and includes many thinkers, nuances and debates. It is not a slight on 'conservatism', it does however, allow for a certain ecomony of thought and words.  To say President Obama is a centrist Democrat is the same.  Certain uses of words that appear to be labels are just linguistic short-hand.  Not all labeling is thus politically incorrect.  I think we must learn to distinguish our 'labels' from our 'name-calling.'  What do you think?

Michael

In Memory of Judas

As I prepared to preach last week from the John 20:19-31 passage, it occurred to me that we still have one scapegoat safely tucked away in our tradition. The gospels record Jesus greeting 10 of the remaining 11 disciples with "Peace be with you" and then finally catching up with Thomas a week later with the same message of peace. Peter receives his "feed my sheep" dialog of healing with Jesus, Thomas gets a special viewing of the scars of crucifixion, but Judas gets nothing; in the text, he's already hanged himself.  He emerges from the expose' of Jesus death and resurrection as the one unredeemed and unredeemable person of all time.  The more I thought about this, the more uncomfortable with it I became. The text clearly scapegoats him; John tells us he was a thief before betraying Jesus in addition to telling us that Jesus graced him with the sop immediately prior to his betrayal. Both John and Luke tell us that Satan had a part in Judas' behavior, only Matthew makes it clear that Judas was filled with remorse and tried to undo his acts by trying to return the 30 pieces of silver he had received from the officials.  All four gospels and Acts make mention of Judas as the one who betrayed Jesus, Acts giving us another grisly window on his death. When his voice is invoked, it is a voice of criticism toward Jesus.  Yet he was chosen by Jesus to be one of the inner circle of 12, and entrusted with their moneybag. I have been told by sincere Christians that Jesus knew from the beginning what was in Judas' heart and just included him so that he (Jesus) could fulfill his fathers will that he die on the cross for our sins. That makes Judas a sitting duck for the god of substitutionary atonement; in order for that god to get his will fulfilled, Judas is needed to do the very thing he did. That creates an odd logic in which Judas is almost as important as Jesus in the drama of the cross and our eventual salvation through it, a logic that requires that we be grateful to Judas. Of course we aren't; our tradition has made it abundantly clear that Judas was evil personified when he betrayed Jesus. For centuries, his is the one of 12 disciples names that few babies have ever received- at least not in memory of him. There are other Judases in scripture, but rarely do we hear about them or expect that one of them is the referent when we hear someone mention Judas.  The word has become shorthand for betrayer/double-crosser even in non-Christian circumstances.  Until we are able to remember Judas with the same love for our enemies that Jesus prescribed, until we are able to extend love and compassion to him in our story- and it is OUR story, his and yours and mine- then I fear we will be plagued by an undercurrent of permission to scapegoat.  The hangman's noose that Judas tied has become a loophole for all of us; we needn't forgive the truly evil act or person.

As I opened my computer to homepage headlines today, I was confronted by a row of 15 crosses memorializing the shooting deaths at Columbine High School 10 years ago.  The accompanying article made brief mention of the two shooters, both students at the time, describing them tersely in negative terms. There was no compassion or understanding; certainly nothing that resembled loving ones enemies was extended to them.  Like Judas, they, and many other similar shooters, killed themselves.  While the text of scripture at least records Judas' remorse, there is no such record for any of these modern day shooters.  Their suicides are seen as defiance, not remorse.  Somehow we have neglected the option of despair, something that might move us to compassion if we took it seriously.  I fear that as Christians, we unconsciously rely on the biblical model of Judas to allow ourselves this exception, this opportunity to vilify and scapegoat those who seem to be such naturals for the part.  This is not to say that their actions were anything other than violently evil. It is to say that if we truly take the gospel seriously we cannot allow ourselves the luxury of an exception to the law of love. I don't expect anyone to develop warm fuzzies for any of the perpetrators of mass shootings, nor do I think that it would ever be appropriate to try.  I do think that we need to find a neutral ground from which to not condemn and scapegoat them because to do so contributes to the cycle of violence and feeds it's next eruption. In this, perhaps Judas is helpful after all; at least in Matthew it is clear that his remorse is real.  If we cannot imagine a worse crime than betraying the Son of God, then Judas' remorse is very important. It is a toe-hold to the understanding that he was included in Jesus words from the cross, "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do."  Surely those executing Jesus knew exactly what they were doing; they did not set out on a picnic and find themselves at a surprise execution.  They set out to crucify him and they did; when Jesus says they don't know what they're doing, he certainly doesn't mean it literally. His understanding, even in extremis, is that they have no clue as to the full context and meaning of their actions. Surely Judas is included in that prayer; handing Jesus over to the authorities who knew where to find him anyway can be no different than the actions of those who executed him. 

Although I can wish that scripture included a scene in which Judas was overtly forgiven and received into Jesus' company in eternity, I think we have an invitation to realize that implicit in Jesus' words from the cross and his last act toward Judas in the Gospel of John.  Bestowing the sop was customarily a gesture of honor and respect from the host to his guest. For Jesus to give it to Judas suggests an abiding love for him that supersedes the act of betrayal, especially since John makes it clear that Jesus knew what Judas was up to and made no effort to dissuade him.  We need to pay more attention to that act, and recognize it as Jesus practicing what he was preaching.  It does not excuse Judas' action nor make something evil into anything good.  It is also not an excuse for suggesting that God needed Judas to betray Jesus to fulfill the divine plan. The divine plan is for love to reign, and this scene at the last supper they shared is a window onto what that looks like.  The bottom line is: if Jesus loved Judas, who are we to refuse to do what Jesus did?

I know that this requires a reworking of our understanding of the story. It expands it beyond where we usually perceive its' boundaries.  It brings the kingdom of God closer, which is really good news for those  who have ever betrayed anyone.  That's pretty much all of us, even if we're just talking about interpersonal relationships. If we start talking about how we betray Jesus in our lives, we are quickly in deep water.....and isn't the forgiveness of Judas then a very important thing?   Our tradition, especially that based on substitutionary atonement models, has deprived us of something vital, and that lack eats away at our hope in the reality of the love and forgiveness of God. If Judas was not forgiven, if his remorse and suicide receive no recognition as repentance, then where do the rest of us stand?  Just because we haven't betrayed the Son of God to his death.....oh, wait- we do contribute to that....our fate is linked to Judas, and no amount of loop-holing will really get us around that.  Understanding the gospel of Jesus as the gospel of peace means understanding that all scapegoating is violent, destructive, and evil, even when it's directed at Judas. If we're really going to celebrate Easter in it's fullest dimensions of meaning, we need to remember Judas too.  We preach that there is no corner of humanity that Jesus did not redeem; that would include Judas and all of ourselves that is like him.  Doing so openly and with compassion has the power to eliminate the loophole through which we squeeze our scapegoats; there would be no honest way out for us if we brought Judas in.  If we don't eliminate our traditional permission to scapegoat Judas, then we  contribute to the vortex of violence out of which Columbine and similarly violent evils come.  Let's put this mornings headlines into the category of "no more of this"; proclaim Judas redeemed.

nancy hitt.

Another hijacking

   For all of you who follow the news, and the latest on Somali pirates, let me tell you of another hijacking. Someone has hijacked our jadedness, our cynicism, our laughter at the scapegoat.  For a season, we've been collectively broken open.  Who is this pirate?  Susan Boyle.  Hey, brother blogger, John Mann what are the Scotsfolk saying? With our challenges at understanding her way of speaking on this side of the pond, we're captivated by this your sister Scotswoman!
  Thank you, Susan, for hijacking me.  I'm on board on a boat few can take.  Thank you for making me weep.  Next time I'm in a church w/ those stained glass windows of ships, I'll say to myself, YES, there are folks who can take us.
  God save the queen, and God bless our new queen of song.  Susan, we love you.  And as Susan says, "I'm Godsmacked." 

Is It Just Me?

The other night we watched a television program on the subject of oratory. It was broadcast on the BBC in primetime and it focused mainly on American political oratory and the effectiveness of Barack Obama as a public speaker. One of the interesting facts highlighted was that fifty years ago a typical “sound-bite” lasted up to forty seconds. Today, sound-bites are much more brief. The statement, “Yes we can” being reflective of our times, if not our attention spans.

The other interesting aspect of the program was that it was so interesting. But that’s the nature of the BBC. The program was a lead-in to a series on the subject in which British young people engage in an ongoing oratory contest. Each week they cover a different aspect of public speaking and the contestants are judged and either voted off or moved on the next round.

Barack Obama being elected President of the United States has been a great boon to a host of subjects of interest to Europeans (a socio-geographic description to which the British people claim nominal allegiance).

We’ve seen many examples whereby news reporting over here doesn’t always get it right. Historical facts are often misstated and we don’t bother to send in corrections. It’s not their history and they can’t be bothered to know that John F. Kennedy was the youngest person to be elected President and that Teddy Roosevelt was actually the youngest person to assume the office.

In some matters we do try to bring corrections to bear. There is a different sense of racism here than in the United States. What in one place would go by unnoticed in another seems like a jarring slap in the face. Living in a different country requires a certain sense of tolerance for different cultural reference points. However ...

In Glasgow there is a great love for things of the American country and western genre. There is even a “Grand Old Opry” night club just this side of the City Centre. But they mix up country and western with the “old south” so that it is rife with, from our perspective, racist overtones. Every Saturday night at closing time the patrons at the Glasgow Grand Old Opry sing a rousing rendition of “Dixie.” We see it as their thing and we don’t go there.

Up until the late 1970’s there was a long running program here along the lines of the old Mitch Miller show in the U.S. Basically an all male chorus singing old favourites. Choral singing is big in Britain. But this particular show, up until the late 1970’s mind you, was called “The Black and White Minstrel Show.” All the performers were in black face. It finally went off the air simply because it had run its course and people’s tastes changed. Rather like how The Sonny and Cher Show or Tony Orlando and Dawn ran their courses in on U.S. television.

So yes, different sensibilities at work.

Recently I picked up a magazine that contained an article about Barack Obama. Nothing unique in that. The content of the article was fairly benign, if not positive and informative. However, what struck me was the title of the piece: “New Boy on the Block.”

I wrote a letter to the magazine’s editors that included some historical references describing the racist overtones of referring to an African American man as “boy.” What peeved me was that the magazine in question was the official publication of the Church of Scotland, called Life and Work.

The editors responded immediately, stating that they would deal with the criticism in the June issue. The writer of the article took offense at the criticism and responded in a personal letter with a fair amount of defensiveness and vitriol. He accuses me of engaging in “ill-informed rants” and of “straining at gnats.” He concludes by telling me, “You really are deeply offensive.” His note confirmed for me one of the reasons why I tend to avoid committee meetings over here.

Anyway, what I’m wondering is, is it just me? Am I being overly sensitive? Is it okay to refer to Barack Obama as “boy” even with the perceived safety of term, “new boy on the block?” And when it comes to racism, where do you draw the line in saying that one thing is on this side of the line of acceptability and one thing is not? Is the line a static reality or a moveable reality dependant on one’s particular perspective?

Or, as the writer of the article chided me, should I have more important things to worry about?

Take Care – John Mann

 

On the Second Day of the Week

On the first day of the week I was very busy celebrating the resurrection of the victim, Jesus, by the God who loves us enough to prove it to us. 

On the second day of the week I read in the NY Times that Navy Seal snipers had executed the 3 remaining Somali pirates that were holding Capt. Phillips hostage, thus freeing him.  In response, Abdullahi Lami, a pirate currently holding a Greek ship hostage was quoted as saying, "Every country will be treated the way it treats us. In the future, America will be the one mourning and crying.”  Violence begets violence.

The difficulty of commenting on this is that Captain Phillips did nothing to deserve having his ship boarded by pirates.  In fact, he offered himself as a hostage to spare his crew, none of whom had weapons to fight back with once they were targeted by pirates.  I have no desire to disparage Captain Phillips actions; he acted non-violently in a potentially deadly situation. His care for his crew is to be commended, as is his attempted getaway from his captors when he jumped overboard and started to swim away earlier in the week. Clearly he was a man invested in his life, neither subordinating himself to the violence of others nor engaging in violence himself. To critique the violence of the US response comes perilously close to sounding like criticism of Captain Phillips, which I in no way intend. But to ignore our violence and the response it received is to contribute to it, something Captain Phillips tried to avoid.  So.... 

How is it that we cannot understand the response of Abdullahi Lami?  Because we don't understand it; we have judged him guilty and therefore deserving of violence because he is a pirate. He "asked for it" when he broke the law of the high seas and took what wasn't his at gunpoint. Who does he think he is to threaten the US with more violence in the future if/when US citizens are among those captured by pirates?  Well, according the rules of the game we're all playing here, he is a man who has learned the lessons that violence teaches very well.  The only antidote powerful enough to quell violence is more violence; that is, if you want to keep your position of power and privilege. It's not clear to me how much power and privilege Mr. Lami has; I'm not familiar with the life of a modern day pirate. It seems odd that he could be interviewed by phone by the Associated Press; do pirates have PR people?  Certainly this man has risen to the occasion even if he is not a formal leader. The sentiment he expresses is one that we've heard over and over around the globe, especially post 9/11. It's also one that we largely choose to ignore.  As the mighty ones, we are accustomed to deciding who will live and who will die. The fact of our might automatically makes us right in our own eyes. When others model themselves on us, become our rivals, and then challenge us, we are baffled and outraged. The bottom line response for many American citizens is, "How dare they?!"  How dare the pirates think that they are as smart and powerful as we are?  They cannot be allowed to get away with that.  When approached by the Navy for direction as to how to proceed with this international crisis, President Obama made it clear that deadly violence must be limited to certain specific circumstances. It could only be used if the Captain's life appeared to be in immediate danger and if all three pirates could be eliminated at once. The presidents guidelines kept a tight rein on the situation, but they nevertheless allowed the use of deadly force.  In the end, we killed three pirates and they killed no one.

The protest is that otherwise, Captain Phillips may have died.  That's true.  It's also apparently a risk he was willing to take when he offered himself as hostage.  Why is it that as a nation we're more willing to exercise our power to choose the victims of violence than to respect the non-violent action of this man?  What we did was to decide that the pirates would die instead of Captain Phillips; we simply chose a different victim than the plot initially looked like it had selected.  If Captain Phillips had not been rescued with deadly force, he might have been killed. For anyone keeping score, that would have been one death, not three.  And as for the value of a life- the Captain had decided his was worth spending in a non-violent manner on behalf of his crew.  Allowing that decision to stand would have empowered his act. As it is now, his decision for a peaceful resolution (even if it resulted in his own death) was superseded by military force "on his behalf". The Captain and his family have said all of the appropriately grateful things about his rescue, and I'm sure they're sincere. Being grateful to be alive and his families gratitude for his safe return make perfect emotional sense. But in the long run, I wonder what he'll think of being pre-empted by power. He may simply be grateful for the restoration of his own life; it's pretty hard not to be distracted by that.  But the increase in the level of violence in the future may prove to be a high price for his conscience to pay. It may be hard to justify the 3 lives and counting that were paid for his.

Much of our response to this depends upon our perception of the pirates as lawless, greedy, and willing to use violence to get what they want. It makes them sound very much like they deserve to die, if anyone does. In a related article the Times reports, "John S. Burnett, who was himself attacked by pirates in 1992 and wrote the book “Dangerous Waters: Modern Piracy and Terror on the High Seas,” said piracy currently poses an irresistible economic temptation to Somali fishermen, increasing their earnings from perhaps $50 a month to many thousands of dollars." I don't know anyone who can survive on $50 a month, never mind support their family on it, not here in the USA and not anywhere else on earth. $50 does not buy food and housing and medical care and education. All of which begins to make the pirates look more like victims than greedy aggressors. And if they're victims of our well camouflaged power already, then they are now doubly victimized by our violence.  Their desire to hurt us in return is a predictable response; it's what we've taught them. 

The remaining days of the week are looking a lot more like the second day in instant replay than like the first.  For those with eyes to see, both hold real truth. The only insight I can offer is to point to the first day and say, "yeah, like that". We need to be like that if we don't want to be like this.  Not just on the first day of the week, but every day. Then perhaps we'll live to see the day when fishermen can feed, house, heal, and educate their families without resorting to violence and its myth of life that conceals the death behind it.

nancy hitt.

Here We Go Again

Early last fall (2008) I said that the violence of multiple killings would increase this year and that these killings would become almost weekly events.  We have seen this come true.

It will increase.  I hate to say this, and you will have the chance to see if this is correct.  I predict that as 2009 goes on, the weapons used will be more powerful in some of these killings, that in addition to guns, explosives will be used to kill multiple peoples.  What makes me say this?

We are seeing the consequences of the stress of mimetic conflict in American culture.  We are a culture of violence, gun ownership, violent video games and surrogate violence in movies and TV.  The downwardly spiraling economy and job losses contribute to the emotional instability of persons who feel they must 'compete.'  In short, get used to the violence that is coming down the pike, it will get worse before it gets better (if it gets better).

It is time for us as Christians to be realistic.  We can either arm ourselves to the teeth and defend our "God given rights" (sic) or we can do the things that make for peace.  There is no middle ground on which to stand.  In this sense the escalating violence in America is a call for the church to take a stand: either it will continue to justify the view that violence stops violence or it will turn and follow Jesus allowing it's witness as peacemakers to permeate our 'gun culture.'

I am not a pessimist, but a realist.  I understand well the mechanics of mimetic theory and I cannot help but wonder if, as a society, we are not coming apart at the seams, because the fabric of our lives is only stiched together by hatred, violence, bitterness and retribution.

I am full of hope though, for I believe that Jesus can and does make a difference when we follow Him.  I pray the churches will find their way clear to acknowledge the deadly affects of the justification of violence and instead follow Jesus, the Prince of Peace

Michael

God Save the Queen

The media flap in response to Michelle Obama and the Queen of England exchanging an affectionate touch seems way out of place when compared to the very real issues of poverty, power, and peace that heads of state were gathered to pursue. Especially on this (US) side of the pond, many have wondered what the big deal is. In repeated blog entries and comments to articles about the "event", Americans have pointed out that the Queen is merely human like the rest of us, and deserves no special treatment that would rank her higher than Michelle Obama. US commentators have proudly declared that "we fought a war" to separate ourselves from that sort of protocol and made it clear that our democracy trumps the British monarchy. Not impressed with the folk wisdom of "when in Rome, do as the Romans do", US citizenry has, by and large, reacted with a total lack of understanding as to the significance of touching the Queen. A few folks suggested that a better course in international protocol was in order so that the world need not be offended by our American insistence on the casual, but they were a distinct minority. On the other (British) side of the pond, the reaction was very different. The physical contact between the Queen and Mrs. Obama was perceived as a breach of protocol. Various details were noted: Mrs. Obama did not curtsy; the Queen gave her a full handshake instead of the customary finger-tips only touch; there was a lateral embrace as the Queen and Mrs. Obama stood with their arms encircling one anothers' backs. None of this was without comment in the British press; clearly something of significance was perceived to have happened.

So, what's the big deal? From a Girardian perspective, a whole lot more than even the press has caught on to as yet. For openers, take a look at some of the titles the Queen holds: Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, Head of State of the United Kingdom (and of 15 other Commonwealth realms). She is Head of the Armed Forces, Fount of Justice and Defender of the Faith.  The last two or three ought to set our Girardian bells ringing. Any time we couple military and religious power, we are dealing in some way with major scapegoating dynamics that have been extremely well camouflaged. Both the military and the religious establishments have the power to direct violence toward a designated scapegoat with impunity. That is not exactly something that most of us want to cozy up with. Girard suggests that the office of king (queen in this instance as the sole reigning monarch) developed out of an original scapegoating and deification process in which the victim was not immediately executed.  There are myths of kings who were selected to rule for a predetermined period of time, during which their word was law. At the end of their term they were hunted and executed.  While this practice now lies in our mythic roots instead of current reality, the impact lives on. The office of king has it's roots in the dynamic of scapegoating. The primary way in which the king kept the community safe was by being sacrificed and absorbing the community violence and dis-ease. The crowd/community kept it's distance, fulfilling the desires of the soon-to-be victim to curry favor and purchase the peace the community needed to survive.  Elaborate systems of courtesy evolved to make distinctions in rank and power evident. While we may currently think of such things as the curtsy as being designed to placate the over inflated ego of the powerful, they more likely were designed to protect the safety of the lower ranked person making the curtsy- a word which has it's root in the word courtesy. Deference signified distance from the (potential) victim, and thereby increased safety.  The sort of personal touch exchanged between Michelle Obama and Queen Elizabeth would not often occur safely- EXCEPT between equals. And therein lies the rub for we modern people: we're not sure how to size up these two.

The Brits are pretty sure their Queen trumps the US First Lady. The US is pretty sure the Queen is just another human being, and therefore no better than anyone, including our First Lady. Note that even we enlightened citizens of democracy have named our Presidents wife the First Lady..... and we get pretty huffy if said First Lady is either slighted or steps out of line in her role.  Culturally speaking, we still exhibit a need for hierarchy that embodies that ancient victimage mechanism. It's extremely well hidden, but thereby all the more real.  The fact that British citizens are at odds with their own monarchy and how it serves the nation and yet still take umbrage at a too-familiar touch by Mrs. Obama, speaks volumes about the hidden power of the office of monarch.  Not only are the citizens protesting the existence of the monarchy, they are also protesting anything that intrudes upon it and humanizes it. One could make the argument that as First Lady, Mrs. Obama is, if not the Queen's equal, at least close to her in rank and privilege, thus making the unusual touch one between almost equals. However, to do so would be to humanize/demote the Queen who rules over people, and to elevate Michelle Obama who serves as one of the people. Neither side of the pond is happy with that.  We're each wedded to our own version of assigning power, privilege, and sacrifice.

To preach peace to this tempest in a teapot is to expose the roots of our expectations of each of these women and accept the responsibility for our perpetuation of systems of power. The outcry (on both sides) may well be a reflection of the influence of the gospel of Jesus- what the people saw in the affection between the Queen of England and the First Lady of the US was a glimpse of "love one another" that transcended cultural protocol. Carry on, ladies; carry on!

nancy hitt.