Thinking Theologically about Social Media

The New Media Project at Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York is pleased to announce the publication of six theological essays and four sets of recommendations about using social media in ministerial, congregational, and institutional settings. Together the material—located under the Findings tab on the project website —provides a one-of-a-kind resource for religious leaders seeking to interpret new media in creative and theological ways.

This looks quite interesting and includes essays from friends and colleagues, including Monica Coleman and Lerone Martin.

See the announcement and links to essays here.

Racism and the Myth of Redemptive Violence

While many of my friends have raised their voices to scream and protest in response to the killing of Trayvon Martin, I have thus far remained silent. I have remained silent because I have been mourning. I have remained silent because I am confused. And I have remained silent because I have not known exactly what to say. However, there’s a “fire burning in my bones” and I must say something.

Like many, I am saddened by the violent and unnecessary death of another American youth, and I am angered at the apparent negligence of the local police department. Again like many, I cannot help but think that race was a motivating factor, consciously or unconsciously, in George Zimmerman’s act of killing Trayvon and in the response of the police. His own rhetoric is, to anyone who has experienced racism and racial prejudice in the United States, clearly coded language for race inspired disgust. Every black male who has lived in the United States as long as Trayvon did knows what it means to be viewed as “suspicious” in a gated community. And the mounting evidence, including recordings of the 911 call and the call made to Trayvon’s friend while running from Zimmerman, call into question Zimmerman’s claims of self-defense. It seems clear to me that George Zimmerman should be arrested and tried. I reserve judgment of his guilt until he faces trial, but there seems to be enough evidence to consider him a suspect in a murder.

Clearly, I assume racism exists and that it negatively affects African-Americans in a way that it doesn’t affect anyone else. If this incident doesn’t make you see that then nothing I say will open your eyes either. And if you do see it, you now have no excuse to work tirelessly to end it.

Having said all of that, I will now focus on one overlooked aspect of the racism active in this story. And it is an aspect of racism that is too often overlooked by even the most ardent opponents of racism in America.

That story is the American myth that violence solves problems, especially in response to problems caused by someone else’s violence. Walter Wink called this “the myth of redemptive violence.” This myth is problematic for a multitude of reasons, but one important one is that it is a racist myth inasmuch as it disproportionately affects African-Americans, especially young black males. Now, this myth is not only an American myth. It finds expression in every culture that I know has ever existed. However, it has especial influence in America as evidenced by our extremely high rates of violent crime.

And, while this myth has power among nearly every social group in American life, it negatively affects young black males at a rate disproportionate to their presence in American society. For that reason, it is a racist myth. It is a myth believed by many young black males in America’s urban centers, and by many non-black males in American suburbs. Sadly, the power of the myth in both communities often leads, directly or indirectly, to the death of young black males wherever they live.

Almost a year-and-a-half ago 18-year old Bobby Tillman was killed at a party. He was literally stomped to death by some other teenagers. His offense? Being the first person to walk by these males offended by being slapped by a girl. In one of the most stupid reasons for someone’s death in the history of the world, these “chivalrous” males refused to strike back at a female and so killed the closest male they could find. They felt they had to somehow redeem their honor by proving they “wasn’t no punks.”

This story has haunted me since I first heard about it. Why? Because I knew Bobby. He used to serve me and my wife Communion when he attended the church I was once a minister at. He spent his time before that fateful party at a church event. He wasn’t killed for anything other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. What defined the “wrongness” of that place and time? The mentality and action of some teenagers who had been taught that “real men” practice redemptive violence. Even if it killed someone else.

Trayvon’s case is not dissimilar. Apparently, the neighborhood George Zimmerman lives in had been the recent victim of several property crimes. People were scared and angry about the violation of their personal lives. So, what did Zimmerman think was the appropriate response to these violations? Redemptive violence. He grabbed a gun, got in his car, and patrolled the neighborhood for “suspicious” persons. Unfortunately, and as is too often the case, the person who seemed suspicious enough to warrant the use of a deadly weapon was an innocent, young black male. Again, living out the myth of redemptive violence led to the death of an innocent black male.

Stories such as these could be retold a thousand times over. It doesn’t matter if the violence is perpetrated by black men, white men, or men of any other race. It doesn’t matter if the violence occurs in “the ghetto” or “the ‘burbs.” It doesn’t matter if the violence is perpetrated by overzealous cops or wanna-be cops. Too often it is young black men, often innocent, who are the victims of the practice of this myth in America. Therefore, it is a racist myth.

This myth must be debunked because as long as it continues to have power in our society young black men will be its primary victims. I pray there will never be another Bobby Tillman or Trayvon Martin. Unfortunately, if history is any indication, my prayers will not be answered. There are many reasons for this, but one reason that is too often overlooked is because we have all bought into this deadly, racist myth.

I believe the Christian story and the example of Jesus point to a way beyond this myth. I believe the examples of Martin Luther King, Jr., Mohandas Gandhi, Oscar Romero, and Desmond Tutu point to a way beyond this myth. I believe that American men need to start looking to these men as examples of the “manly” way to resolve conflict rather than to the characters played by Denzel Washington or John Wayne, the lyrics of studio rappers, or the obsession with military force by our government.

I beg each and every one of us – please abandon your faith in the myth of redemptive violence. Otherwise, there is nothing we can do to prevent the next Trayvon Martin story from hitting the news in a few months.

I thought I’d never see the day…

…a moral theologian/theological ethicist would be on mainstream TV talking about a controversial moral and political issue for an extended period without being forced to provide a ratings-grabbing soundbite. Prof. Kaveny, you made my day.

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

The Revolutionary Millionaire? On Jay-Z, Hip Hop Music, and Moral Ambiguity

Morals in rap is like an oxymoron.. – Jay-Z

Jay-Z tweeted that, but he doesn’t really believe it (or so I shall argue). In fact, a close examination of his lyrics, writings, and interviews quickly demonstrates that he has an ethic and thinks about morality on a regular basis. What he meant to say, as far as I can tell, is that a systematic approach to morality and ethics, as traditionally defined in the European philosophical tradition, is irrelevant to America’s urban ghettos and the music that sprung from them. According to Jay-Z, morality in rap (and ghetto life) does not consist in adherence to a categorical imperative or divine command, in the calculated weighing of utility or consequences, nor the adherence to a social contract made between equals. Rather, morality is contextual, imperfect, and ultimately ambiguous. As medical and social anthropologist Arthur Kleinman argues in What Really Matters,

Ethics, a set of moral principles that aspire to universal application, must be seen in a context of moral experience, which is always changing and usually uncertain, in order to provide a more adequate vision of values in society and how to respond to their clash and change. Taken alone, ethics, such as principles of virtue and justice, can be irrelevant to our local worlds, just as local moral experience, such as discrimination and oppression carried out in the interests of the dominant group, as in the American South in the era of segregation, can be unethical, even downright evil – and can render people unable to criticize their own conditions…[Thus,] Individuals’ efforts to live a moral life in the particular circumstances of moral experience can lead them to formulate ethical criticism of those circumstances as well as to aspire ethically to values that go beyond the local reality and seek universal support (pp. 25-6).

What Kleinman argues in this book is that to understand whether one has lived a “moral life” one must consider the dynamic interaction between universal values, cultural meanings, social experience, individual subjective experience, and political economy and political power. When examining lives in this way we have far less heroes and villains and many more “everyday” people who are doing their best to live a moral life in an oftentimes dangerous world. I propose that an examination of the life and work of Jay-Z articulates this truth as clearly as any example provided by Kleinman in his wonderful book, and also serves as an example of the way morality functions in hip hop music in general.

Why Jay-Z?

Jay-Z is arguably the greatest rapper of all time. Any quick listen to his most recent work will let you know the stats to back that up. He has 11 #1 solo albums (besting Elvis Presley) plus his #1 joint album with Kanye West (Watch the Throne), two of which are considered all-time great hip hop albums (Reasonable Doubt, The Blueprint), and several other albums and songs considered to be extremely important in the history of hip hop. He is generally considered to be, in addition to his unrivaled long-term popularity, a superb technician in the skills of emceeing, many considering him one of the greatest lyricists of all time. In addition to his success in music, he has published a NY Times best-selling book, Decoded, based on his life and the interpretation of his lyrics. And on top of all of that, he has been dubbed “Hip Hop’s Philosopher King.” (He’s also a bit of a theologian if you ask me.)

Jay-Z’s story is the dream of countless urban youth. Raised by a single mother after being abandoned by his father Jay-Z entered the drug business as a teenager. He quickly became, by all accounts, quite successful in this enterprise. However, he also had a talent and love for rapping and, just in time (soon after exiting the the drug business for the music business several of his former colleagues were arrested in a police sting), pursued a career as a rap star. Early on he was unable to secure a record deal and so he, with a few friends, eventually started his own record label, Roc-a-Fella Records. His first album is now considered a classic, and he has gone on to have arguably the most successful career in rap history. He is a hustler’s hustler with roots in the streets and real skill at an artist’s craft. He is a self-made millionaire, an entrepreneur par excellence, and the “bad guy gone good.” Jay-Z has lived the life most rappers only rap about.

“Rap critics say that he’s ‘Money, Cash, Hoes/I’m from the hood stupid what type of facts are those?”

“If you escaped what I escaped you’d be in Paris getting f***ed up too”

However, he is not without his critics. He has been accused of being an uber-capitalist who has disavowed the prophetic heritage of black religion, politics, and music for the shallow dreams of material wealth. At their most extreme, such critics accuse Jay-Z of selling his soul to the devil, often by joining the Illuminati, for the allure of worldly success. (MC Hammer even made a music video making this point. The video has since been removed from the internet.) Others accuse him of glorifying sex, objectifying women as mere sexual playthings or degrading them through consistent use of the word b****, and condoning the violence and criminal activities of America’s inner-cities.

His most flippant response to these critics is something like, “Look stupid, I’m from the hood. I was deep in the drug game. I’m not supposed to be living the life I’m living. In fact, I should probably be dead. Now why would you think I’d talk about anything else but the ‘good things’ in life? Namely, sex and money.” In these moments he accepts this characterization of (at least some of) his music, but defends it by appealing to the long distance he traveled from poverty to wealth and claims his critics would do the same thing if they were in his shoes. He appeals to his experience to qualify moral critiques of his life.

“Say that I’m foolish, I only talk about jewels/Do you fools/Listen to music/or do you just skim through it?/See I’m influenced/By the ghetto you ruined/That same dude, You gave nothin’, I made somethin’ doin’/What I do, through and through/and I give you the news with a twist, it’s just his Ghetto point-of-view”

However, he doesn’t always accept these critiques. In fact, he has made many songs exploring “deep” issues of love and life. Specifically, he regularly reflects on the pain of his childhood abandonment by his father and sees his experience as symbolic of the experience of many urban youth (Where Have You Been, Meet the Parents). He has made songs where he empathizes with, though doesn’t wholly justify, the life of a street hustler (This Can’t Be Life, Regrets). And he has made multiple songs dealing with familial and romantic love (Song Cry, You Must Love Me, Glory). Simply put, he doesn’t just rap about “money, cash, hoes.” He also raps about love, loss, and the difficult moral choices one finds in an American ghetto.

His reply to his materialistic critics doesn’t end with a list of songs that don’t fit their description of his music, however. He insists that he’s got a unique perspective on life, or “the news,” that provides a different insight into the nature of the moral life than one can find in the mainstream media, suburban churches, or America’s halls of power. Rather, he talks about many of the same things politicians and social critics discuss but with a “ghetto point of view.” He recognizes many of the problems that exist within American life, but his take, shaped by his moral experience of our social-political structures, is a bit different than those who haven’t seen what he’s seen.

In addition, he frequently refers to Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Fred Hampton, and even Jesus in his songs and claims to be following in their footsteps. Jay-Z understands himself, not unlike Tupac Shakur or The Notorious B.I.G., to be a rapper who challenges the status quo through his art. Specifically, he challenges the status quo by giving voice to those who are at best ignored and at worst silenced in American public discourse. He makes people who wouldn’t normally hear such voices (especially suburban youth) listen to, and take seriously, the stories of those trapped in a cycle of poverty, drugs, violence, prison, and death. And he speaks to those still trapped in such a cycle as to give them hope and perseverance. At least, this is what he claims.

“I’m like Che Guevara with bling on, I’m complex…”

Of course, not everyone agrees with him. He is not Public Enemy, dead prez, or KRS-One. His music is often commercial and materialistic. For instance, one of the biggest hits of his career is a song titled “Big Pimpin’“. And he has been called out on this seeming contradiction in his music and message (you must read the whole thing, with an excerpt from Decoded).

Of course, Che Guevara is one of the most well-known Communist revolutionaries in history. Marxist social theory does not exactly extol the virtues of owning lots of extravagant luxury items, to say the least. So, to have a platinum necklace encrusted with diamonds in the shape of Jesus’s face (it’s own contradiction) bouncing off of Che Guevara’s commodified face is a glaring contradiction. Jay-Z’s response?

But to have contradictions–especially when you’re fighting for your life–is human, and to wear the Che shirt and platinum and diamonds together is honest. In the end I wore it because I meant it. – Jay-Z, Decoded, 27.

“I consider myself a revolutionary because I’m a [black man and a] self-made millionaire in a racist society.”

Since Decoded was released Jay-Z released an album with another artist whose career has been full of contradictions. Watch the Throne addresses these contradictions – between revolutionary politics, capitalist success, surviving and transcending the life of the street, and material indulgence – head on. It is, in part, Jay-Z and Kanye West’s defense of their luxurious lives. The most explicit defense is found in two songs: “Murder to Excellence” and “Made in America.” (Please listen closely to both songs.)

“Murder to Excellence” begins by recounting the, not so nice, state of black life in America. Specifically, it documents the high rates of violence that plague primarily black inner-city neighborhoods. This fact is most poignantly summed up in Kanye West’s line, “It’s a war going on outside we aint safe from…314 soldiers died in Iraq, 509 died in Chicago.” The song then moves, with an abrupt change in beat, to an account of America’s black elite and the possibilities of success for black people in America. However, the song also laments the very few members of that “black elite.” Jay and ‘Ye call throughout the song for black solidarity to move from “murder” to “excellence.” This is most poignantly stated in Jay-Z’s line from the very first verse, “N****s watching the throne, very happy to be you/Power to the people, when you see me, see you.”

“Made in America” recounts both Kanye West and Jay-Z’s rise to success. Kanye rose from being an obscure independent music producer in Chicago to an international superstar, and Jay-Z rose from selling crack cocaine to being one of America’s richest people. The interesting thing here, however, is that they recount these stories in light of a chorus that places them in the trajectory of Martin, Malcolm, and Jesus as black people who have “made it in America.” In addition, their primary music video and performances in promotion of the album have included over-the-top American flags. Jay and ‘Ye intend to make it clear that they are doing nothing else than living the American dream.

A common theme in black American political life has been the choice, for simplicity’s sake, between “integration” and “separation,” “revolution” and “reformation.” This has historically been symbolized by the historical “choosing sides” between Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Du Bois in the early twentieth century, and Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X in the second half of the twentieth century. In hip hop, perhaps this dichotomy is most clearly demonstrated in the constant debates about “conscious” hip hop and “commercial” rap. The key figures, for many, in this debate might be Chuck D or KRS-One and Jay-Z.

However, Jay-Z refuses to accept this dichotomy. Rather, he insists that he can integrate into the system and still be a revolutionary. More accurately, he insists that no matter how much success he achieves in the American economic and political system he can never fully be integrated. Therefore, his success is a revolutionary act because he is successful in spite of a system that intends to keep him from being successful. This doesn’t shield him from any critiques of materialist excess, hedonism, and the like, but it does nuance how one understands what he’s doing in his music.

“So I got rich and gave back, to me that’s the win-win”

How [do] you rate music/That thugs with nothin’ relate to it?”

In Decoded Jay-Z makes it clear that his life trajectory – from experiencing the effects of crack cocaine in American urban ghettos in the 1980s to becoming a global business – mirrors the trajectory of hip hop music. His story is, in many ways, the story of hip hop music. His ethics are, in many ways, the ethics of hip hop. Hip hop music is full of revolutionary politics, misogynistic patriarchy, material excess, religious devotion, sex, drugs, and violence, and the hopes and dreams of multiple generations. It is, in this way, a quintessentially American form of music. However, these Americans are those that have historically been excluded from being part of the American story. Jay-Z claims that he can be a revolutionary millionaire because he has now made their story part of the American story.

Whether this is true or not is up for debate. Yasiin Bey (formerly Mos Def) has recently challenged whether this can be true or not in his new remix of Jay-Z and Kanye West’s extravagant celebration of extravagance, “N****s in Paris,” in his song and video “N****s in Poorest.” In this song, in an explicit reference to the Jay and ‘Ye album Watch the Throne, Yasiin calls people to “don’t get caught up in no throne…[because] They silver and they gold, aint never saved a soul.” Clearly, there are still many people who feel you have to choose, in the end, one or the other.

Jay-Z has tried to maintain a moral stance in the midst of selling crack and becoming a multi-millionaire. In both arenas he appeals to his context and dares people to judge his actions as immoral. Many are willing to judge them positively or negatively, but he refuses to choose, for himself, one or the other. He believes he can retain his moral integrity while living in the messy middle. He believes he can be a revolutionary millionaire. A moral drug dealer and a moral pop musician selling, at the same time, sex and hope because, as he (and others) reminds us, he is simply living the American dream. His implicit stance is that, whether selling drugs or music, one can be a moral capitalist and, therefore, attempts to redefine the definition of “revolution” in black political thought. He is not Marcus Garvey or Fred Hampton (even if he was born on the day Hampton died) nor is he Booker T. or Martin. Rather, he is paving his own way of living a morally coherent life in America.

Jay-Z, and hip hop music, can be judged, as all people can, regarding his morality. However, he insists that if you’re going to do so you must do so by taking seriously the contexts of his life – America’s urban ghettoes, America’s racist history, and America’s capitalist economy. Must one choose the purity of revolutionary separation or total inclusion if one is black and poor in America? Jay-Z not only answers with an emphatic, “NO!”, but insists that neither is actually possible. Morals in rap is not an oxymoron, then, but is something completely different.

Further Resources

To explore this topic further I recommend reading Arther Kleinman’s book What Really Matters to understand his argument about how morality actually functions in the world, and Jay-Z’s stunning book Decoded. Also, a few weeks back a friend asked me to put together an 80 minute Jay-Z playlist to introduce someone to his music. I think that playlist works especially well to understand the dynamics I’ve talked about in this post. The playlist is below:

1. Can’t Knock the Hustle feat. Mary J. Blige [Reasonable Doubt]
2. D’Evils [Reasonable Doubt]
3. Regrets [Reasonable Doubt]
4. Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem) [Vol. 2...Hard Knock Life]
5. This Can’t Be Life feat. Beanie Sigel and Scarface [The Dynasty: Roc La Familia]
6. U Don’t Know [The Blueprint]
7. Heart of the City (Aint No Love) [The Blueprint]
8. Song Cry [The Blueprint]
9. Renegade feat. Eminem [The Blueprint]
10. Meet the Parents [The Blueprint 2]
11. Public Service Announcement [The Black Album]
12. Empire State of Mind feat. Alicia Keys [The Blueprint 3]
13. Murder to Excellence (with Kanye West) [Watch the Throne]
14. Made in America (with Kanye West) [Watch the Throne]
15. Glory feat. B.I.C. (aka his daughter, Blue Ivy Carter) [No Album]

Must I Commit Cultural Suicide?

I am, in the words of Michael Walzer, a divided self. I am bi-racial (my mother is a Korean immigrant, my father a white man from middle Tennessee). I come from a blue-collar background (father a soldier, mother a janitor/waitress) and live in a white-collar world (Ph.D. student). I am a member and have been a minister in a “Bible-believing,” what most folks would call a “fundamentalist,” Christian tradition (the churches of Christ, the conservative wing of the American Restoration/Stone-Campbell movement) who is immersed in the world of contemporary American liberal theology. I am a doctoral student but neither my parents nor their parents have college degrees. I live in a constant liminal – or hybrid, borderlands, in-between, gray, etc. (choose your adjective) – space. Living in this space is wonderful as it is a space of diversity, mutuality, and continuous learning. However, living in this space is difficult, confusing, and potentially self-destructive.

We humans long for stability and sameness. We enjoy comfort even if it often leads to stagnation. We dislike discomfort even if it often leads to growth and maturity. And life as a divided self is an intrinsically uncomfortable life. It provides many benefits that I would not give up or trade in, but this requires a constant negotiation of my own self-identity and the multiple identities various people ascribe to me. I have no choice but to be more than one person in a world that is more comfortable with black-white dichotomies than with gray (or brown or yellow) realities. I have no choice but to be a divided self in a world that divides me into pieces and refuses to interact with me except on the terms of those divisions.

Roughly a century ago America’s greatest sociologist, W.E.B. Du Bois, described such an existence as “double-consciousness.” Writing as a black man in early twentieth-century America, he found this double-consciousness so unbearable he eventually became a citizen of Ghana. Du Bois described double-consciousness in this way:

After the Egyptian and Indian, the Greek and Roman, the Teuton and Mongolian, the Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world, – a world which yields him no true self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world. It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness,- an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder. – The Souls of Black Folk, Ch. 1

Now, I am by no means equating my status as a graduate student from a working-class background with the state of being black in America in 1900 (or 2012). As a bi-racial 1.5/second generation Asian-American, I’ve experienced my share of racial prejudice and seeing myself through “the revelation of the other world,” even if that world has no place for people like me in its dichotomies. And life as an “outsider” in the academy is not the same as life as a non-white person in America. However, the world of the academy does require folks like me (working-class, first generation college, conservative Christian heritage, etc.) to always be “looking at one’s self through the eyes of others.”

Adam Kotsko has done a wonderful job explaining some of the angst felt by those making the shift from wearing blue-collars to white ones. A former teacher of mine (Laurie Patton) described this experience as committing “cultural suicide.” At one of the several sessions on “professionalization” I’ve attended at Emory, she described a phenomenon she’d seen numerous times over her years of training graduate students. Those students who were first-generation college graduates or come from overwhelmingly working-class family backgrounds, she said, often feel that they have to abandon, reject, or even come to overtly “hate” said background to be fully accepted and integrated into their new social class and milieu. Or else they must be ready for a life of continual discomfort and feeling like an impostor.

This, it seems to me, is the easy way out. It accepts those black-white dichotomies that the embodied experiences of working-class graduate students (let alone multiracial people!) prove is blatantly false. In fact, even those who would like to make this move often find their “embarrassing” backgrounds creeping up to haunt them at the worst possible times. It is futile to try and be something you weren’t raised to be; you will always be, to a lesser or greater extent, your parents’ child and a product of your neighborhood.

However, living in double-consciousness as a divided-self is not easy to do. It is a lot of exhausting work. It hurts. It seems unfair. But it is. And that is okay. Most folks, in my experience, don’t actually want to give up their background to make a move up social classes and enter the academy and the privileged life of the mind. No one likes to feel like a sell-out. No one wants to lose relationships with people who have nurtured them and helped to make them who they are. Look, I’m a product of a conservative Christian home, the dreams of an immigrant mother, the work ethic of a father from rural Tennessee, and a neighborhood with a high school that hovered around a 50% graduation rate last year. In other words, I was raised by good, hard-working people with limited opportunities. In the past I have hurt some of these people with my dismissal and biting critiques of their theology, politics, or personal habits. And I’ve done it by drawing on the education that is reserved to certain classes. And I hate myself every time I do it. (But, like a good conservative Christian should, I know that the truth can hurt, and that such pain is better than living in falsehood. And so I try and balance truth-telling with sensitivity and often fail miserably.)

A simple, and humorous, example of this division in my life occurred when Kentucky Fried Chicken released its double-down sandwich. The level of commentary on my facebook timeline was a visual representation of the class divisions warring within my own soul. Friends I grew up with lined up to try it on the first day of its release, commented on its visual beauty, and preached its deliciousness with evangelical zeal. Friends from my current social circle decried KFC’s contribution to our growing obesity problem, lambasted them for their inhumane treatment of chickens, and gasped in disbelief that they could ever sell one of those disgusting balls of fat, with an even greater amount of zeal. (I assume they ate kale, quinoa, and organic sushi for dinner.) The thing was: I fully agreed with both groups of friends.

The longer I am in the academy, and live in university neighborhoods, the more comfortable I grow in being physically present in such circles. The feeling of being out of place is gradually drifting away, but it still shows up quite forcefully from time to time. I’ve decided that I am not going to commit cultural suicide, even if it is tempting at times. I still attend a church in my ecclesial tradition, and I try, as much as I am able, to stay “connected to my (immigrant, working-class, urban) roots.” I’ve chosen a life in a profession and vocation traditionally reserved for a social class “higher” than that of my parents, grandparents, and the majority of the peers of my youth. However, I strive to use the gifts, opportunities, and skills I’ve gained from being in such a place in service of those very people who nurtured me when the majority of those in my current class ignored the virtue, and even the existence, of said nurturers. And I try never to forget the lessons I learned from those people even as I learn the lessons of “great minds and important thinkers.”

The Theology of “No Church in the Wild”

Jay-Z and Kanye West have come under quite a bit of scrutiny lately about their, ahem, “religious” and social beliefs and activities. Are they members of the Illuminati? Does Jay-Z really believe he’s God? Is it idolatrous/blasphemous for him to have J-Hova (as in Jehovah, since he’s the “god of rap”) as a nickname? Is Kanye a Christian? Should he have been nominated for a Christian music award for his song “Jesus Walks”? Isn’t he racist against white people? Doesn’t he only date white women now? Aren’t they both uber-capitalists who are now spokesman for the system? Where did their counter-cultural/black power messages go? And etcetera and etcetera…

I don’t want to get into those questions too much (though I find the capitalism question quite intriguing and multidimensional), but, instead, look at one of the most popular songs off of their new joint album Watch the Throne. The song is titled “No Church in the Wild” and it was a trending topic on twitter the day the album was released. It seemed everyone was listening to it. It is, in fact, quite an intriguing little piece of music. Let’s break it down…

[Hook: Frank Ocean]
Human beings in a mob
What’s a mob to a king? What’s a king to a God?
What’s a God to a non-believer who don’t believe in anything?

Each of these couplets are examples of one being/entity being proved insignificant by its comparison to another being/entity. One human in a mob of people? Insignificant. The masses to a king? Insignificant. A king compared to God? Just another piece of dust. Now, here’s the interesting part: God to a non-believer who views religion and/or the divine as a human construction or superstition? Absolutely nothing. In the hierarchy of the universe presented in the hook the one who sheds belief in a (specific) god is the most powerful being in that universe. Whoa.

Will he make it out alive, alright, alright, no church in the wild

However, there’s no guarantee that the most powerful being in the universe, the non-believer, can survive in this universe. “Will he make it out alive?” There’s no way to tell because there’s “no church in the wild.” Two things: “no church” and “the wild.” There is no set of believers that has a monopoly on truth (another instance of Jay saying he’s not part of the Illuminati?). There is no specially selected group of people with special access to the divine will (buh bye Calvinism). There is no divinely ordered structure to human society (so long Hinduism, Confucianism, and several traditional African religions). We live in “the wild.” Is Jay a “state of nature” theorist? This seems rather Hobbesian, if not Nietzschian. Jay seems to believe that there is some sense of “survival of the fittest” (does any street hustler NOT believe this?). You either win or you lose. You live or you die. In a world like this, is there room for a god? Probably not.

[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
Tears on the mausoleum floor, blood stains the Colosseum doors
Lies on the lips of priests, Thanksgiving disguised as a feast

First, Toure has already done a good job breaking down Jay’s verse from a purely lyrical perspective. Go check that out. I’ll do some of that, but I’m more interested in the theological argument of the verse. Having said that, what a grand way to start a verse! Do you have the image in your head? Tears on the floor of a mausoleum? That grand testament to the greatness of a single human being sullied by tears of sadness? Mausoleums are supposed to be testaments to greatness and inspire reverence and awe, not tears. Are they the tears of family members who miss their loved one now claimed by the masses? Are they the tears of the poor upon whose backs it may have been constructed? Are they the tears of the dead king who wanted to live forever so bad he had a mausoleum built in his honor but still lies decaying underneath it? Who knows, but wow. Blood on Colosseum doors! The blood of gladiators spilled for human entertainment? This great testament to human accomplishment is sullied, from its construction to its destruction, with the blood covering its doors. These two testaments to human ingenuity and greatness proven irrelevant by the everyday human fluids of tears and blood. And then the verse gets going!

The lips of priests – those entrusted with telling the truth of God’s message to the people – are covered in lies. In today’s world we can’t help but equate this with the lies of Catholic priests who molest children for their own sexual satisfaction and sense of feeling powerful. Whoa. America’s key holiday, Thanksgiving (along with Independence Day), is the day we are supposed to remember God’s wonderful provision for our nation and the sacrifice of our ancestors to create this country from nothing. Except, oh yeah, it was done on the backs of the genocide of America’s native population. This is no event for Thanksgiving, it is an event for mourning. For lament. For repentance. But anything except Thanksgiving.

These four “beautiful” things are not so beautiful because they are tainted by tears, blood, lies, and murderous theft. This is the world we live in: even those things that we consider most beautiful are examples of the “wild” nature of human existence. And our neatly constructed world begins to shatter…

Rolling in Rolls Royce Corniche
Only the doctors got this, I’m hiding from police
Cocaine seats, all white like I got the whole thing bleached
Drug dealer chic, I’m wondering if a thug’s prayers reach

Ok, from a lyrical perspective this is simply nice wordplay. Jay drives a car that only well-paid medical professionals usually drive, so he’s “hiding from police” because they wouldn’t expect to find him driving in it. Why not? Oh, because he’s a drug dealer, but still dressed rather “chic.” He tells us this by describing the color of the interior of the car. In the rap world he has just bragged about his wealth, flaunted his street cred, made a nice wordplay with “cocaine seats,” talked about his fashion game, and made a reference to Tupac. In other words, these four bars cover everything you’re supposed to do in a whole verse!

The Tupac reference? ‘Pac is famous for lines like “wondering if a thug’s prayers reach.” He made a song called “I Wonder if Heaven Got a Ghetto” and often wondered in his songs if God cared about urban youths, gang members, and prostitutes. In fact, he even claimed God would overlook their sins because of the lot they were dealt in life (ala Luke 16:19-31). In the context of this verse, there is that connotation, but one also has to ask whether a thugs prayers can reach a God who doesn’t exist.

Is Pious pious cause God loves pious?
Socrates asked whose bias do y’all seek?
All for Plato, screech, I’m out here balling, I know yall hear my sneaks

Jay paraphrases “The Euthyphro Dilemma”: Do the gods love pious (holy) things because they are pious, or are those things that are pious made pious because the gods love them? Put another way, does God command those things that are just because they are just, or are the things God commands just simply because it is God who commands them? This is a question that goes back to Socrates and has been a starting point for philosophers and theologians ever since. While Jay’s interpretation of Socrates answer isn’t totally on point (Socrates rejects the second option), Jay says it’s a matter of opinion. In a world like this (with sullied mausoleums, priests lips covered in lies, and drug dealers driving around like doctors) is there a point to this question? Your answer depends on your bias. In other words, the pious, holy, and just are human creations that don’t necessarily fit with what we see in the world. Jay answers Socrates’s timeless metaphysical question with a modern sociological answer: it depends on who’s answering the question and what they already have been shaped to believe about the world. There is no “final” answer to this important philosophical-theological question. We just can’t know.

Also, there have been twelve popes throughout history named “Pius,” so this line also functions as a jab at established religion, especially Roman Catholicism. Did “God” choose these men because they were pious (history says probably not – for example, Pius XII was pope during WWII and his record towards Nazism is sketchy at best), or do we declare them pious because God selected them? If the latter, bad God; if the former, blind God.

Not gonna do much w/ the Plato-screech-sneaks line other than to say that the last part is quite a nice piece of double imagery.

Jesus was a carpenter, Yeezy he laid beats
Hova flow the Holy Ghost, get the hell up out your seats, preach

Here he goes again equating himself with God. I really like the “Jesus was a carpenter, Yeezy laid beats” line because it humanizes Jesus and shows that musicians create things just like manual laborers do. Also, in constructing this new Trinity Jay still leaves the question of “God the Father” unanswered. The classic Christian formulation is that God is three persons in one: Father, Son, Holy Ghost/Spirit. According to Jay, in music ‘Ye is the Son and he’s the Spirit but we don’t know who the Father is. At the end of his verse we still don’t know if there is a god, and if so who that god might be. Drawing on a certain form of the theodicy question Jay tells us that if there is a god there’s no way to know, but looking at the world it’s pretty hard to believe there is one. so, “get the hell up out your seats” and try and survive in “the wild.”

[Hook]

[Bridge: The-Dream]
I live by you, desire
I stand by you, walk through the fire
Your love is my scripture
Let me into your encryption

With the bridge Kanye goes a different direction with “the wild” metaphor than Jay did. Whereas Jay equates “the wild” with a type of “state of nature” where in the competition of life bad things happen, ‘Ye equates it with a type of hedonism, the pursuit of pleasure.

[Verse 2: Kanye West]
Coke on her black skin
Make a stripe like a zebra, I call that jungle fever
You will not control the threesome
Just roll the weed up until I get me some

Ok, funny image, but ‘Ye does a couple things here: uses “jungle” imagery to set up his version of “the wild” the same way Jay used mausoleum/Colosseum imagery to set up his version of the wild in the first verse. Except ‘Ye’s version includes two types of drugs and two women in some sort of psychedelic sexual orgy. Okay.

We formed a new religion
No sins as long as there’s permission
And deception is the only felony
So never fuck nobody without telling me

Aha! The new religion is one that places the highest value on honest sexual pleasure and exploration. ‘Ye has long been an advocate of open relationships and here he makes it plain. For him, it is a religious value. As long as sexual partners are open and not hiding their trysts it is ok to go outside one’s primary relationship for sex. No need for monogamy because we “live by you, desire.”

Sunglasses and Advil, last night was mad real
Sun coming up, 5 a.m., I wonder if they got cabs still?
Thinking ’bout the girl in all leopard
Who was rubbing the wood like Kiki Shepherd

Ok, ‘Ye had a crazy night with zebra girl, coke, and weed. He’s mad confused and reminiscing on leopard girl. So, he had zebra girl and leopard girl in his threesome. Sounds like “the wild” to me! Seriously, the last bar is pretty good. Kiki Shepherd hosts Showtime at the Apollo, the place where she and guests rub a piece of wood for good luck. Nice!

Two tattoos one read “No Apologies”
The other said “Love is Cursed by Monogamy”
It’s something that the pastor don’t preach
It’s something that a teacher can’t teach

Here it is: “Love is cursed by monogamy.” There we have it. Love is the highest virtue of this new religion, and monogamy kills it. So, preachers and teachers are actually hurting love by pushing monogamy on us. This is clearly a jab at established religion. Also, it makes one wonder what ‘Ye’s definition/understanding of love is. It seems to be deeply tied to sexual expression, but I’m not sure if it means more than that. The point, however, is that rigid rules hinder a life of love more than it helps it.

When we die the money we can’t keep
But we probably spend it all cause the pain ain’t cheap, preach

One of the things I like about Kanye’s music is its trasparency, honesty, and contradiction. I believe he does this better than anyone since ‘Pac. One of the things that defines ‘Ye’s music is a deep contradiction between the life he lives and his highest values. He often makes light of or defends is hedonistic lifestyle defined by fashion, sexual pleasure, parties, and good music. But there are other times, even on this album, where he recognizes the transient nature of this lifestyle and its shallowness. He ends this verse, a defense of open relationships and a hedonistic approach to life, with a recognition that material things are unimportant at one’s funeral. He says we can’t keep our money, and seems to imply we should therefore spend it all on coke and sex, but it’s not totally clear. Is his recognition that we don’t keep money when we die a recognition that we can’t take our sexual partners with us when we die too? It’s hard to tell…

[Hook]

So, what’s the theology of “No Church in the Wild”? It seems to me the main message is that organized religion is unable to make sense of life in our world that is so “wild.” There may be a god but the god we see in organized religion is probably not that god. God, if there is one (or many), is probably more like a guiding spirit than anything else. To survive (Jay’s verse) and enjoy (Kanye’s verse) our life on earth we have to pursue our own way outside of established religion, even to the point of creating our own religion as ‘Ye does. There is no guarantee that we will do it right (“does God hear a thugs prayer;” “we can’t take it with us when we go”), but we know organized religion probably doesn’t do it right either. So, like the writer of Ecclesiastes would say, the best we can do is enjoy our work, eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we will die.

This is clearly something those committed to organized religion don’t like to hear, but it raises questions we must answer: What does your religion have to say to a world defined by so much meaningless suffering and injustice? How does your religion respond to the culture of sex today? Is your religion doing more harm or help in the world and in people’s relationships? At least, these are the questions Jay and ‘Ye have not found adequate answers to from the religion they’ve encountered.

So, what is the theology of “No Church in the Wild?” I’d say it’s some blend of an agnostic surivival of the fittest ethic with hedonism and a longing for something more without knowing anyway to discover it.

A Schema of Religious Violence

Recently, I put together this visual schema of Mark Juergensmeyer’s theory of religious violence and terrorism as presented in Terror in the Mind of God for my doctoral seminar “Religion, Conflict, and Peacebuilding”. While it is presented in a somewhat hierarchical and linear fashion (due to my limitations in Powerpoint), Juergensmeyer, in fact, presents it as a more fluid process. While my presentation marks a natural “flow” to the process of religious radicalization, it should be remembered that one could enter into the process at almost any stage. Included beside the flow chart are Juergensmeyer’s “Stages of Symbolic Empowerment” and his theory of the progression from simple “confrontation” to “cosmic war.” They are presented, roughly, next to their corresponding stage(s) of religious violence. I hope you find it helpful.

Click below:

Religious Violence Schema – Juergensmeyer

Religion, Violence, and Peace: Call for Papers

As many of you know, I’m currently one of the Peer-Review editors for Practical Matters, an online, open access, multimedia journal that focuses on religious practices and practical theology. The journal is part of Emory’s Graduate Division of Religion’s Initative in Religious Practices and Practical Theology. (There are similar programs, though not journals, at Vanderbilt and Duke.) We’re currently working hard on our next issue, to be released this spring, focusing on Religion, Health, and Healing. Keep your eyes posted here because I will link to it when it is released.

Today, it was “officially” announced that I will be one of the Issue Editors, along with my friend and colleague Joseph Wiinikka-Lydon, for our next issue to be released next year. It will be entitled Violence and Peace. You can see the call for papers here or below:

Practical Matters is now seeking submissions on the theme of Violence and Peace. Practical Matters is an online, multimedia, transdisciplinary, peer-reviewed journal designed to ask and provoke questions about religious practice and practical theology. Practical Matters is funded by a grant from the Lilly Endowment, Inc. and published out of the Emory University Graduate Division of Religion.

The fifth issue of Practical Matters will explore the intersections of violence and peace, which have emerged as valuable and exciting places for interdisciplinary research and dialogue. The submission deadline is September 1, 2011.

We are interested in featuring work on topics including but not limited to…

•Ethnographic or historical studies of the role of religion in causing and responding to conflict, violence and peacebuilding;
•Explorations of the resources available to religious communities of the past and present that contribute to both violence and peace;
•Explorations, both normative and descriptive, of the ways modern globalization and dynamics of interreligious contact contribute to both conflict and peacebuilding;
•The ways in which classic questions of religion and violence, religion and peacebuilding, and just war and pacifism are being addressed and reformulated today.
We especially encourage multimedia and interdisciplinary pieces of original scholarship. The submission deadline is September 1, 2011.

As one of the editors of this issue, I highly encourage you to consider submitting your work to the journal. There is room for classic peer-reviewed academic articles as well as peer-reviewed video content. Practical Matters also encourages reflections on teaching as well as pieces from practitioners reflecting on their experiences. To get a feel for the different types of pieces published in Practical Matters check out our submission guidelines here.

The journal has been going for several years now, and our publishing process has gotten more efficient and our name is becoming more well-known. If you’re at all interested researching religious practices, practical theology, the use of ethnography in doing theology or the role of religion in violence and peace please consider submitting something for the next issue.

What Are People Saying About the Claremont University Project?

Recently I posted a link to the press conference where Claremont School of Theology officially announced the launch of the Claremont University Project - a multi-faith/interreligious graduate school/seminar. As expected, there has been a wide array of responses to the idea of a Christian seminary transforming itself into an explicitly interreligious institution. Some welcome it as the future of theological education, some as evidence of the natural end of a “weak,” Liberal version of Christianity, and others are simply confused about why this is news or why seminaries are still allowed to grant graduate degrees. Bloggers, religious organizations and news outlets have all reported on the project. Here are what some people are saying:

News
Associated Press
Merinews – An Indian newsource documenting the approval of Hindu leaders
United Methodist Church
Inland Valley Daily Bulleting – The local newspaper in Claremont
LA Times
Jewish Journal

Commentary by President Jerry Campbell
Washington Post
President’s Pen 1
Indian Muslim Observer
President’s Pen 2

Commentary by Others
CST Professor Sheryl Kujawa-Holbrook on the Huffington Post
CST grad Rob Rynders
CST student Ekaputra Tupamahu
Albert Mohler, President of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary

Also, check out their

Still the Old Boys Club: Race, Gender, Churches of Christ, and the Academy

I am a life-long member of the churches of Christ and a current doctoral student in religion (Christian social ethics) hoping for a future as a professor and scholar. A couple of weekends ago I attended the Christian Scholars’ Conference at Lipscomb University in Nashville, TN. I think highly of the conference and think it is a jewel in the world of CofC higher education. The annual conference is, generally, focused on different issues regarding the intersection of faith and culture. This year focused on faith and the arts, next year focuses on religion and science, and two years ago (the last CSC I attended) the focus was on faith and politics. The conference draws scholars, ministers, students and laypersons from around the country. Often CofC sponsored events are rather exclusive, meaning only people affiliated with the CofC attend, but this conference is different. Every year there are plenary speakers from outside the tradition, but the event still has a profoundly CofC ethos. It is, in my opinion, a shining example of one way people can be ecumenical, show hospitality to “outsiders,” have a true willingness to learn from others and still be true to one’s own tradition and identity. I was happy to attend and plan to attend many more in the future.

However, it is also a reminder of much of what is wrong within the CofC world – especially its circles of higher education. Due to professional responsibilities I was only able to attend the last day of the conference. During that one morning/afternoon I was involved in two events. The first was a breakfast for CofC graduate students in theological/religious studies. The second was a panel presentation. As I looked around the room of future CofC theology, Bible, and ministry professors during the breafast I couldn’t help but notice that I was the only person who was not, um, white. And I’m only halfway there! (Perhaps there was another barely noticeable multi-racial person in the room, but I couldn’t tell.) Also, among the 30 or so attendees there was only, if I remember correctly, four women. The room was as white and male as any room in contemporary America can be. Clearly, something (some-bodies) was missing. (As an important sidenote, I attended the conference free of charge because of an initiative the CSC has of providing $500 for ethnic minorities/graduate students attending the conference to encouarage diversity and future scholars.)

In my second event, the panel discussion, there was only one person who was not white (not including myself) in the entire room. He was of Asian descent. Oh, and there were exactly zero women present in the room. Zero. So, let’s count the number of black persons present at events I attended: 0. Number of Hispanic persons: 0. Number of Asian persons: 1 1/2. Number of women: 4. The CofC still has a problem with the “old boys club” if you ask me.

Now, these, obviously, aren’t the only experiences people had. So, what experiences did others have? Well, I heard one story of a luncheon held in an esteemed scholar’s honor in which a joke was made about the lack of women present, though there was at least one present, with some inappropriate reference to strippers. I’ve also read about an incident where an offensive joke about multi-racial marriages was made (as the product of, and current partner in, one, I wish I was there to show some, ahem, “righteous indignation”). Finally, in the panel session I attended one of the presenters referred to a group of people, literally, as “A-rabs.” So, while displays of overt racism were far from the CSC, ingrained bigotry and prejudice were more than present. In many ways, the CofC is decades behind the rest of the nation as far as the presence, and influence, of minority scholars of theology/religion is concerned.

I’ve been affiliated with two Methodist seminaries in my life. At both places concerns about racial/gender justice and inclusivity were the norm. They are consciously addressing the legacy of racism and patriarchy in American Christianity. Unfortunately, the CofC lags far behind. Take a look at the theology/Bible/ministry faculty at OCU, Harding, Harding University Graduate School of Religion, Lipscomb University, ACU, and Pepperdine University. Notice any racial and/or gender patterns there? (Special shout-out to Pepperdine and ACU for actually having TWO ethnic minorities on their faculty and to Pepperdine for having the FIRST woman Bible prof ever at a CofC school.)

In multiple ways the world of CofC theological studies is very much still an old boys club. Justice has yet to reach our version of the ivory tower. I have hope that the future will be different, but if the breakfast I attended at the CSC is any indication that hope is very dim. And if the attitudes represented in off-hand comments are any indication, many of those currently holding academic positions are blind to, or don’t care about, the problem.

It makes me sad, and angry, that this is the case in the ecclesial fellowship I am a part of. This experience is a stark reminder of how much work I have to do, and far we have to go, in the CofC. As a Christian I understand it to be my duty to seek justice in any context I find myself in. As one who has chosen to place myself in the context of higher education, one form of that pursuit is to work to open the doors of our institutions of higher education, specifically those doors in theological/biblical/ministerial studies, to those who have not been able to teach and lead the future generations of CofC’ers for far too long – women and ethnic minorities.

Will you join me in that pursuit?