Dialoging with one of my best friends on heaven and hell

Heaven, Hell and our lives...

My friend Dan Hinz loves God and loves people. He is a constant reminder of the dedication that is required if one is to take following Jesus seriously. He is also the pastor of church plant in Rockford, Illinois who is constantly loving God with heart, soul, body, and MIND. Recently, he blogged on an upcoming book by the very popular Rob Bell regarding heaven and hell and I was drawn in by his post, which is titled “Thoughts on Heaven and Hell…before I read Rob Bell’s Book.” It is WELL worth the read and you can find it here (he’s also written a book called Why the Church Needs More Bartenders that you can find a link to to the right of the blog).

I figured that along with responding to Dan, I’d share my thoughts on his post with you all too. Below is what I responded to Dan with, feel free to respond to one of us or both of us!

Good stuff, Dan! Thanks for sharing. I’m sure we could chat for hours on all 7 points (heck, we’ve done it before!), but one point in particular jumped out to me and got my brain running to other points as well. It was number four and your use of extravagant surprise to describe God’s love and grace for us. I’d like to add to your words this: it strikes me as important to recall that not only is God’s love for us an extravagant surprise (which it most certainly is) but it is also, at the very same time, a scandalous ordeal – that is, that which is offensive and outrageous to us.

Spilling backwards into point 3 [regarding God's judgment] for a moment, judgment DOES resonate with our souls, but it is always our judgment that resonates first and foremost. It seems that there is something about the style of God’s judgment that not only surprises us but also offends our sensibilities and expectations. God’s judgment comes upon us as love and grace yet this is so unlike what we are socialized to expect and (this is the scary part) WANT that we view the love of Christ not as essential but as expendable. Perhaps, because God’s love doesn’t FORCE us to do anything but instead WELCOMES us into freedom, it violates the rule-bound comfort of our religious way of life. Instead of the comfort of the religion, Jesus reveals to us the reality of faith (and the fear and trembling it requires!) by reminding us of your 5^th point: our choices matter! They actually CAN and DO usher in the reign of God’s justice (heaven) and/or the damnation of humanity’s will being done (hell).

Whether we experience heaven or hell seems to have everything to do not only with encountering God’s extravagant surprise, but also with EMBRACING AND DEDICATING OUR LIVES to God’s scandal. And, because God’s love is revealed to us in the divine/human flesh of Jesus, embracing God’s scandal is not abstract living or Pharisaical dogma (as you say), but has everything to do with embracing the human flesh that is scandalous to the world – the flesh that no one with “good sense” could think has anything to do with God. The wonderful extravagant surprise, then, is that God calls us to extend the welcoming embrace to the scandalous one(s) and through doing so, inherit God’s heaven.

Thanks again for the inspiration!

 

…Your thoughts on heaven, hell, and what in the world our lives have to do with them???

The American Dream: To Restore or Release?

I recently read an article in Time by Fareed Zakaria that I found rather provocative. Fareed uses the article to recall how he envisioned and encountered the American Dream (conceptually and materially) as a youngster growing up in India in the 1970s. Remembering his arrival in the USA on college scholarship, Zakaria recalls being “struck by the spacious suburban houses and the gleaming appliances – even when [his friends' parents] had simple, modest jobs.” Indeed, the problem of consumption is a theme that runs throughout the piece.

What I found striking, though, was the way in which Zakaria transitioned from focusing on the existence and growth of unhealthy American consumption (today, the average family in the USA has 13 credits cards, and household debt has risen from 680 billion in 1974 to 14 TRILLION in 2008!!!) to presenting ‘practical proposals’ (investing in the future of our children by investing in training, education, research and development, in route to strengthening economic infrastructure) while merely skimming the role that public and governmental morality plays in all of this. In his critique of the functionality of taxing in the USA, Zakaria notes that:

“the American tax code is a monstrosity, cumbersome and inefficient. It is 16,000 pages long and riddled with exemptions and loopholes, specific favors to special interests. As such, it represents the deep, institutionalized corruption at the heart of the American political process, in which it is now considered routine to buy a member of Congress’s support for a particular, narrow provision that will be advantageous for your business.”

Scathing and accurate!!! Yet Zakaria, having lambasted the relationship between government, taxation, and private business, quickly becomes (to my mind) disappointingly moderate again, saying that his proposals (which I parenthetically and summarily point to above) will be difficult to implement because “they ask the left and right to come together, cut some spending, pare down entitlements, open up immigration for knowledge workers, rationalize the tax code – and then make large investments in education and training.” If the corruption of taxation (not merely over or under taxing, but the means through which special interests become a central part of how taxation functions) as it relates to the structure of democracy is really “at the heart of the American political process” (and here I think Zakaria is on to something VERY important), then what is needed is not merely a reaching across the isle, but a disruption of the meeting in which the lives of American citizens, especially poor and working class citizens, are suspended between the left and the right and utilized as political tools to determine which side of the isle’s interests will receive the most tax breaks next term! The concern for poor and working people is not only marginal, it is non-existent.

Notice that the media, in the midst of this recession, has talked often of the “shrinking middle class.” Interesting choice of words inasmuch as shrinking denotes a reduction in size often brought about by “natural” chemical or biological changes. But the middle class is not shrinking, it is being (has been?) destroyed by privatization, predatory lending, and greedy banking that is funded, in large part, by the crooked tax breaks that Zakaria alludes to. And here we encounter an important truth, one that we know in different ways, but ought to hold our attention at this particular historical moment. The middle class is that buffer separating the privilege and wealth of the rich from the rage and anguish of the poor. And what the media has neglected to mention (at least most of the time) is that this “shrinking” middle class is attributable to a ballooning of the population of those living in poverty, which is further attributable to a smaller and smaller portion of the population owning more and more of the wealth!

At the end of this article, Zakaria points out that the etymology of “American Dream” can be traced to the Great Depression, when historian James T. Adams penned The Epic of America. For Adams, the American Dream was about “a better, richer and happier life for all our citizens of every rank.” Alas, it was ALL a dream. We know that the birth of this Nation came not only through a Revolutionary War, but also through the displacement and murder of Native Americans and the subsequent enslavement of Africans. Thus from the jump, the American Dream has been an exclusive one in which those who can dream are those who have had the social and political privilege to rest while others literally build and sustain the country.

In the shadow of the recent midterm elections in which the Hope that saw Barack Obama win the presidency seems to have taken quite a blow, perhaps it is time to ask how we ought to posture ourselves in relationship to this American Dream. Shall we hope/work for the restoration of a dream that has never included all Americans? Or is it time (far past) time that we release this dream so that we might begin to imagine and build something new?

… These are some of my thoughts and reflections. PLEASE SHARE YOURS! Leave me comments, feedback, critique, etc.

Another Iteration of the “N-Word” Debate

I saw this story on CNN this morning. Debates regarding the use of the “N-Word” (Nigger) are not unusual. There was the well-known debate between public intellectuals Michael Eric Dyson and Cornel West, and there are the often had debates and arguments in barbershops and at family reunions across the country. The debate typically centers around a few questions:

1) Should the N-Word be used? Those who answer “yes” to this first question typically use what I’ll call the “re-appropriation approach.” This stance, at its best, acknowledges the tragic, painful, and deadly history related to the N-Word, but also maintains that black folk have successfully and powerfully re-appropriated the word giving it an endearing meaning. Taking what was meant for dehumanization and making it deeply humanizing  so that referring to a friend as “my nigga,” it is argued, has a very different meaning than a racist calling a black person “nigger.”

Those who answer this first question “no” usually maintain the “moratorium approach.” This approach says that the n-word is so deeply marred by hatred and tragedy that preceded and followed its use that it ought to be laid to rest until at least until the structure and function of society reflects having actually learned from (I can hear the “we have a black president!” retorts already:)).

2) Second question: (closely related to the first) why (or why not) is this issue important (or not)? Do we use it endearingly to subvert and remember? Do we not use it to forget and move on? Somewhere in between?

3) Thirdly, who is allowed to use the word? Should it now be limited to black people?

We could certainly add a host of other questions to this list, but I wonder what you all think?

Spare the Rod or “Whup that ass?”:Marc Anthony Neal’s Piece on Spanking

Dedicating this blog to Mark Anthony Neal’s (Professor at Duke University) recently penned interesting (and, I think, hilarious!) article regarding spanking. Like Neal, I can vividly remember gettin’ tow up (or severely disciplined for those not familiar with the vernacular) at various points growing up and I think I turned out alright (I can already hear the jokes coming from my friends ).

To spank or not to spank? And, perhaps, what constitutes spanking? When does spanking become abuse?

Enjoy the article and I look forward to reading your thoughts.

Sacred and Profane Power in the Church

Is there still power in the pew?

One of the most disturbing aspects of the accusations (indeed, they are just that as of now – ACCUSATIONS) against Bishop Eddie Long is the claim that he used religious ceremonies to coerce and convince his alleged victims to perform and participate in sexual activities.  Understandably, I’ve read certain commentaries that point out that Bishop Long is not the first Ecclesial Leader to abuse his power (the Catholic church is the most outstanding (counter-)example). Still the idea that long may have used pseudo-sacrements in route to violating the bodies and minds of these men (and simultaneously violating the body Christ) is both terrifying and infuriating. The old cliche-question: Is nothing sacred? comes immediately to mind.

Recently, an interesting dialog regarding the status and role of the black church has raised questions about the moral and political role/memory of the institution that was born and developed in slavery. At the same time, the Catholic church continues to reel in a seemingly ubiquitous sex scandal. How can we as Christians make sense of these occurrences without trekking out marginally helpful arguments regarding the imperfection of human nature? Eventually, we have to do something about the religious structures that harbor such a strong potential for these types of sexual improprieties.

The alleged use of religious ceremonies in the sexual abuse of the young men who have come forward lead me to wonder when/if the black church in particular and Christian churches in general will begin to rethink some of its ecclesial structure, traditions, and notions of power in the name of caring for and honoring the bodies of congregants (as well as the body of Christ). It seems to me that as long as we retain ecclesial structures and traditions in which the Pastor is unquestionable and untouchable while simultaneously overtly and covertly supporting the pastor’s power to question and touch whoever he/she (but certainly predominately HE) wants the church will remain morally and politically paralyzed.

My intention is not simply to blame black church members (or church members in general), but to recall the power that is in the pew. I remember being at a Black Religious Scholars gathering a few years back when a woman in the audience asked theologian James Cone how to approach the problem of sexism in churches. Cone’s response to the woman was to stop going to church! Now, I’m not saying that we should do away with church gatherings (I have friends who are wonderful Pastors and have worked to implement some of the structural changes I’m pointing towards). Indeed, community is an essential part of the Christian life, and in our overworked society, church can still help to maintain strong communities. I’m also not plugging for the Emergent Church movement, which has limitations of its own. I do, however, think that the reevaluation of traditional ecclesial power structures has a strong possibility of leading to reassessments of the social and political role of churches in general…but what do you think???

Rethinking the theological ethics of burning Qurans

Pastor Terry Jones of Dove World Outreach has made headlines over the last week due to his plans to lead “International Burn a Koran Day” at his Florida church. I’ve been a part of quite a few dialogs over the last few days that consider the ramifications of Pastor Jones’ plans and for the most part, folks have agreed on two things. First, that the idea of burning a Quran to make a statement against “Extremist Muslims” is just a bad idea. Second, that the idea of burning a Quran to make a statement against so-called “Extreme Muslims” represents a particular form of Christianity – one that is not new.

I’ve been thinking some about the second point. It is no secret that the history of Christianity in the Western world is, in large part (and there are important exceptions!), a history of imperialism. That is, a history of violently forcing a religion, culture, language, and worldview upon “discovered” people. Whether or not one has studied this history, many of us know of this tragic fact (the fact of Christian imperialism) through cultural memory. That is, through the ways we recall our coming to be as a society and peoples. We all know that Native Americans experienced near-genocide through colonization, we know that Africans were enslaved and dehumanized through colonization, and we also know that we, as U.S. citizens, inhabit the lands on which these atrocities occurred. We know all of these things.

The challenge is to raise questions like: what does it mean that the United States was born not only of a Revolution against imperial power, but also through the implementation and continuation of that power onto and into the lives of those deemed as something less than human? To do this as Christians who reside in the United States is to stare hypocrisy and tragedy in the face as we work out our faiths. Furthermore, it seems that Pastor Jones’ plans have occasioned the opportunity to raise this and other questions.

I can’t help but compare the burning of Qurans to the burning of crosses. Some will quickly say, “Wait! Aren’t you being a bit extreme?!” I don’t think so. The proposed (and there is still time for Pastor Jones to change his mind!!! pray for him!!! remember that he two was created in the image of God!) burning of Qurans is the mutating of a religious symbol in the name of letting a group know that “we” will not put up with “their” way of life violating “our” way of life. This seems to me to be PRECISELY what the burning of crosses was: the mutating of a religious symbol in the name of letting a group know that “we” (the nature of this “we” may have shifted some in our contemporary example) will not put up with “their” way of life violating “our” way of life!

Pastor Jones wants to show extremist Muslims that America, especially American Christians (though I wouldn’t be surprised if Pastor Jones were to wrongly argue that America is a Christian nation and thus that American and Christian are, ideally, synonymous), will not back down from the terrorizing practices of extreme Islam. Racist whites wanted (and want – lest we mistakenly believe that racism and the burning of crosses is a thing of the past) to show blacks, as well as other terrorized racial and ethnic minorities, that the white supremacist culture that drew deep and clear lines between whites and non-whites could not and would not be transgressed. Both practices emerge from a type of theo-logic, a rationalizing of God, that begets tragic ethics.

Opposition to Jones’ plans need to go beyond merely disagreeing with his plans. We should also think deeply about what type of religious consciousness leads to this type of action; the type of action that “burns” foreign perspectives before ever gaining familiarity with them. Historically, the burning of crosses is closely knit to the burning of bodies. And more generally, violent ways of thinking about God often lead to violent actions against people who hold different belief systems. It is difficult to be vulnerable and to dare to commune with those different from you. But this is the perspective we need to exalt, one that is open to communing with and learning from perspectives different than our own. Undoubtedly our communion partners will learn from us as well, and this is the best of what it means to be  a Christian: to be open to the possibility not only of changing someone else, but of being changed in turn.

Well, that’s what I think anyway. What about you?

History, Tragedy, and the Cultural Construction of Hope; or Movie Night with a PhD Student

Remember a while back, around Christmas and the start of the new year when I said I was gonna write often and regularly and stuff like that??? Well you see, what had happened was… To borrow from my friend Josef Sorett, I’ve become quite the “back-sliddin’ blogger.” Anyway, I’m back! (For now…)

My fiance and I recently watched a movie called “Before I Say I Do.” It was a romantic comedy about a guy (George) whose fiance (Jane) gets cold feet and leaves him because of her fears stemming from a previously failed marriage. (I know what you’re thinking: “What’s romantic or comical about THAT?”) In a late night effort to get Jane back, George runs a yellow light and, following a light-running custom, makes a wish as he belatedly enters the intersection. Heartbroken, he wishes that he had met his fiance before she had married for the first. As he goes through the intersection he gets t-boned by another car (Hold on, there IS romance. I promise! ).

When George comes-to, his wish has been fulfilled and he has traversed time, traveling from the year 2009 back to 1999. Graced with the opportunity to save the love of his life from a marriage that will ruin his chances of marrying her, George plots and plans and eventually helps Jane to see her current/past fiance, Doug, the dirt-bag that he really is/was. He successfully stops Jane from marrying Doug and George and Jane live happily ever after.

My fiance was gracious enough to allow me to ruin a perfectly good romance movie with a reflection about tragedy, history, and hope (ahhh, the joys of being in relationship with a PhD student ). I got to thinking about our society’s persistent and determined efforts to evade the reality of tragedy, by manipulating history, and subsequently hope. The movie, for all its romance and wedding bliss (I’m NOT trying to be a killjoy. Really, I’m not!), mimicked our society’s attempt to evade the reality of the tragic by manipulating the past and producing unrealistic hope.

Take for example, the contemporary fact that 1 out of 3 black men are bound to the criminal justice system. It is NOT the case that 1 of every 3 black men is IN PRISON. It is however, true that 1 of every 3 black men is either in prison, on parole or on probation. Add to this the fact that the overwhelming majority of black men are imprisoned on drug related crimes which are considered felonies, and are then labeled felons by a society which discriminates against felons in hiring practices and denies felons the ability to vote, receive food stamps, and act as a member of a jury (hence part of the difficulty of “finding” black jurors for the black accused), and you have what Michelle Alexander refers to in her new and important book as The New Jim Crow. Mass incarceration has replaced de jure segregation as the new systemic method through which blacks, especially black men, are locked out of mainstream society.

The tricky aspect of this new form of segregation is that it is enacted devoid of the nasty overt racist language that we’ve come to associate with southern racism, especially Eugene “Bull” Connor and his cronies. Yet the effects are just as, if not MORE, devastating. Instead of “nigger” or “coon” law enforcement has gotten tough on crime in the War Against Drugs, and black men are the most oft convicted criminals (this despite the fact that black men are LESS likely than white men to use or sell drugs). This new, nicer form of discrimination falls right in line with popular historiographic accounts of Civil Rights Movement as the rapture of this world from racism. In reality, black America is WORSE off in many areas of social and economic life than it was before the CRM. It can, however, be extremely difficult to make tangible sense of this tragic social reality given the historical narrative which equates the absence of (as many) burning crosses with the end of racism.

In essence, romanticized American history travels back into the past and teaches us that Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination somehow ushered in a new and better social order. Theologically, this rendering functions as twisted Christology: in the same way that Jesus HAD TO DIE for our sins to be forgiven, King HAD TO DIE in order for America to have new racial and ethnic life. As a Christian, I believe in the saving power of birth, death, life, and resurrection (always interpreted together!) of Jesus. However, also as a Christian, I believe that to worship Jesus’ death ALONE can lead to a masochistic brand of religion that demands innocent blood in the name of salvific work. This just ain’t good. Hence, history and historiography (i.e. – the study of the way history has been written and interpreted) , as J. Kameron Carter has argued, bears tremendous theological importance. The way that we interpret the past will have deep and lasting consequences for how we orient ourselves to the present, as well as for how we construct our hope for the future.

Now, I’m not saying that we ought to celebrate tragedy – this would be to double-back on the Christological claims I made above about the importance of remembering ALL of who Jesus was and is. I am however arguing that tragedy, as terrible and horrific as it is, is a part of our REAL lives. It is a part of our social, political, and economic lives, and so it ought to be a part of our religious and theological lives. In other words, the reality of tragedy ought to be something that we pray on and meditate. The reality of tragedy helps us to understand why Paul challenged us to work out our faith in fear and trembling; the reality of tragedy is seen clearly in the cry of dereliction from the cross (“Father, Father, why hast thou forsaken me?!”);  it seen clearly in the masses of black and brown bodies that are continually jammed into prison cells; and it is seen in religious intolerance that would rather kill than learn.

I love happy and romantic endings just as much as the next person; and I believe that God’s justice, grace, and love will have the final say. However, when our desire for happy endings lead us to attempt to usher in the eschaton (God’s final judgment) for ourselves, happy and romantic endings become/remain impossible. What would it look like to dare to attempt to live in such a way that our faith helps us to stare the tragic in the face? Not to traverse time and space in order to avoid the tragic, but to actually believe that there is something else on the other side of this social order on this earth (as it is in heaven!). To actually believe that there is a way out of a racism dominated society and culture into a different way of being?