Pope Francis on the need for ethics in economics

The entirety of this address can be found here.

Ladies and Gentlemen, our human family is presently experiencing something of a turning point in its own history, if we consider the advances made in various areas. We can only praise the positive achievements which contribute to the authentic welfare of mankind, in fields such as those of health, education and communications. At the same time, we must also acknowledge that the majority of the men and women of our time continue to live daily in situations of insecurity, with dire consequences. Certain pathologies are increasing, with their psychological consequences; fear and desperation grip the hearts of many people, even in the so-called rich countries; the joy of life is diminishing; indecency and violence are on the rise; poverty is becoming more and more evident. People have to struggle to live and, frequently, to live in an undignified way. One cause of this situation, in my opinion, is in the our relationship with money, and our acceptance of its power over ourselves and our society. … We have created new idols. The worship of the golden calf of old (cf. Ex 32:15-34) has found a new and heartless image in the cult of money and the dictatorship of an economy which is faceless and lacking any truly humane goal.

The worldwide financial and economic crisis seems to highlight their distortions and above all the gravely deficient human perspective, which reduces man to one of his needs alone, namely, consumption. Worse yet, human beings themselves are nowadays considered as consumer goods which can be used and thrown away. We have started a throw-away culture. This tendency is seen on the level of individuals and whole societies; and it is being promoted! In circumstances like these, solidarity, which is the treasure of the poor, is often considered counterproductive, opposed to the logic of finance and the economy. While the income of a minority is increasing exponentially, that of the majority is crumbling. This imbalance results from ideologies which uphold the absolute autonomy of markets and financial speculation, and thus deny the right of control to States, which are themselves charged with providing for the common good. A new, invisible and at times virtual, tyranny is established, one which unilaterally and irremediably imposes its own laws and rules … Added to this, as if it were needed, is widespread corruption and selfish fiscal evasion which have taken on worldwide dimensions. The will to power and of possession has become limitless.

Concealed behind this attitude is a rejection of ethics, a rejection of God. Ethics, like solidarity, is a nuisance! It is regarded as counterproductive: as something too human, because it relativizes money and power; as a threat, because it rejects manipulation and subjection of people: because ethics leads to God, who is situated outside the categories of the market. God is thought to be unmanageable by these financiers, economists and politicians, God is unmanageable, even dangerous, because he calls man to his full realization and to independence from any kind of slavery. Ethics – naturally, not the ethics of ideology – makes it possible, in my view, to create a balanced social order that is more humane. In this sense, I encourage the financial experts and the political leaders of your countries to consider the words of Saint John Chrysostom: “Not to share one’s goods with the poor is to rob them and to deprive them of life. It is not our goods that we possess, but theirs” (Homily on Lazarus, 1:6 – PG 48, 992D)

Dear Ambassadors, there is a need for financial reform along ethical lines that would produce in its turn an economic reform to benefit everyone. This would nevertheless require a courageous change of attitude on the part of political leaders. I urge them to face this challenge with determination and farsightedness, taking account, naturally, of their particular situations. Money has to serve, not to rule! The Pope loves everyone, rich and poor alike, but the Pope has the duty, in Christ’s name, to remind the rich to help the poor, to respect them, to promote them. The Pope appeals for disinterested solidarity and for a return to person-centred ethics in the world of finance and economics…

New Issue of Practical Matters: On Ethnography in Religious Studies and Theology

Issue six of Practical Matters is now online. It has a special focus on the use of ethnography in religious studies and theology. I highly recommend that those interested in such work go check it out.

Why I Support One Voice for Change

Last week I asked that my Church of Christ readers join in and support One Voice for Change. In this post I’d like to articulate why I, personally, support this movement.

1. It is biblically and theologically sound. Like many, I grew up in a church that denied that women can serve in public leadership roles over men. What this meant in practice was, generally, that women could not lead prayers, Bible readings, or preach in service, and that they could not be appointed as elders, deacons, or paid ministry staff. The Bible verses that are interpreted to support this view are well-known and I won’t rehash them here. The interpretations of those verses that do not support that view are not as well-known, and One Voice for Change has a resource page with links to those interpretations, so I won’t lay them all out here. However, I would like to mention the theological “aha!” moment that initiated me on the journey of rejecting the theology of denying women the opportunity to exercise public spiritual leadership and authority.

I grew up, again like many American Christians, reading the gospels as, primarily, historical texts. By this I mean that I read them as straightforward accounts of Jesus’s life and teachings. Thus, I remember much energy in Bible classes being spent on making certain discrepancies between the gospels cohere together. They were read primarily as biographies or history textbooks. Importantly, they were not read as “doing theology” in the way that Paul’s letters were read as “doing theology.” The church I grew up in took great pains to read Paul’s biblical letters “in context.” I knew a lot about ancient Corinth and Thessalonica as a teenager. Much was made about the culture, history, and events in the cities and churches Paul wrote to. I was taught that to read those letters out of context was to misread them. However, I was never given those same lessons regarding the gospel letters.

In college and seminary, however, I learned that the gospels, too, were letters written to specific churches or people (in the case of Luke). And I learned to read them primarily as theological rather than primarily historical texts. In other words, the gospel writers were trying to teach the churches they wrote to theological truths just as Paul did in his letters. However, they used a different literary form to teach those lessons than Paul used. The form of the gospel was relatively common at the time, and they weren’t used simply to “tell history” but to teach theology. The gospel writers chose which stories about Jesus to tell (did you know Mark totally excludes Jesus’s birth from his story?), in which order to tell them, and how to tell them. For instance, in Luke Jesus reads from the scroll in the temple much earlier than he does in Matthew and Mark. Does this mean he did the same thing more than once as I was taught as a child? Not necessarily. Read as a theological text it means that Luke thinks this incident has a certain theological significance that merits telling it to us early in his story of Jesus. And, if you read all of Luke, you see that Luke is teaching his audience that Jesus really cared about the poor a lot and taught some radical things about wealth and poverty. That is why Luke tells that story so early on in his letter.

Read this way the gospels quickly become theological letters, akin to Paul’s letters, that teach a radically egalitarian theology. It is a woman who is the only one who bests Jesus in a theological discussion (the story of the Syro-Phonecian woman). Jesus treats women as a rabbi would his disciples – a radical departure for his day. He treats women as equals and crosses all kinds of religious and cultural boundaries to do so. And, of course, we can’t forget that it is women who are the first evangelists – the first preachers! – after Jesus’s resurrection. Read theologically, the gospels clearly teach that women and men are equally capable and called to be in public leadership.

It is not just the stories that teach this theology but the way these stories are told. Luke, for example, employs a strategy of pairing parallel stories of men and women doing similar things next to each other. For instance, in Luke 1 both Mary and Zechariah sing songs regarding the miraculous birth of their children. And in Luke 2, when Jesus is presented at the temple, a male prophet (Simeon) and a female prophet (Anna) give praise to God for Jesus’s birth. The rhetorical effect is that women and men are seen as equally capable of speaking authoritatively about God’s work in the world.

Thus, paired with Paul’s theological statements regarding male-female equality in the Spirit, there are many NT resources to suggest that women and men are equally called by God to be in positions of public spiritual leadership. The passages where Paul teaches that it is inappropriate for women to do certain things in certain contexts (pray with their head uncovered in Corinth – importantly assuming women are leading public prayers! – or remain silent in Timothy’s church) must be read in conjunction with those passages that teach women are equally called and gifted by God to teach and preach. Read this way, the NT is a radically liberating text that insists that all – regardless of class, race, nation, physical abilities, or sex – can be called by God to God’s ministry of reconciliation in the world.

2. God is calling women to ministry.Perhaps the strongest impetus for my conversion to a fully egalitarian position is getting to know women called and gifted by God for ministry who have been denied the opportunity to fulfill that calling. It is truly a painful, an injurious, situation to be in to be called by God to God’s service only to be denied the opportunity to fulfill that call by your fellow Christians. Too many women have been deeply hurt by our refusal to recognize God’s call on their life to continue with the status quo. Our churches are doing great spiritual harm to our sisters. This must stop. Now. Many talented women have left our churches to serve in other churches because we refuse to recognize God’s call on their life. That is wrong. It is sinful. And we can no longer be churches who sin in this way.

3. The time is now.One of the constant criticisms of One Voice for Change that I have heard from those who agree, generally, with the theological stance laid out above is that “it’s not the right time” or “it’s the wrong strategy.” Instead, we must continue our hard work of teaching in local churches and convincing people one at a time. I hear this, but it is, in my opinion, gravely mistaken. Some of the greatest movement towards fully equal churches happened in the early to mid-1990s. At that time, several congregations around the country moved toward having women lead prayers, read scriptures, and, on occasion, lead the Lord’s Supper on Sunday mornings. Several churches moved to hiring women to serve as children’s or education ministers. However, twenty years later this is still the same situation. No more progress has been made toward the full inclusion of women in a generation. A whole set of young adults has grown up in a church no more equal than the one that existed during Bill Clinton’s first term as president. Simply put, we’ve waited too long. The time is now. We can’t wait another generation. For twenty years those women who have been called by God to certain forms of ministry have been denied the opportunity to practice that ministry by good-hearted allies who say to them “just a little longer.” And they suffer the pain of being denied, rather than affirmed, the opportunity to fulfill God’s call in their life. This. Is. Wrong. Stated bluntly to those who advocate the path we’ve been taking for a generation: We’ve tried those methods and they haven’t worked. Let us try something new. This doesn’t mean that the methods used over the last generation are wrong or should be stopped. No, lasting change must happen in local congregations at the lived level. But this is not enough. More must happen. Or we will continue to do injustice – to sin against – all our sisters called and gifted by God. This is not an acceptable option.

This is why I support One Voice for Change: it is biblical, it is faithful with God’s movement of calling women to public leadership, and it is the right time. Will you join me?

Book Review: Compassionate Justice

Marshall.CompassionateJustice.78071Marshall, Christopher D. Compassionate Justice: An Interdisciplinary Dialogue with Two Gospel Parables on Law, Crime, and Restorative Justice. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2012.

I am in the middle of writing a dissertation on transitional justice and teaching a three-month Sunday school class on biblical justice. In both of those endeavors Christopher Marshall’s work has proven to be vital. In his previous books on biblical justice as restorative justice (Beyond Retribution and The Little Book of Biblical Justice), Marshall has proven himself to be a world-class scholar of both the Bible and of the restorative justice movement. His work on this subject has influenced theologians, ethicists, and even political scientists to begin speaking of justice after crime and violence in primarily restorative rather than retributive terms. (For example, see the work of theologian John W. de Gruchy and political scientist Daniel Philpott.) Thus, I was very excited to read Marshall’s newest contribution to this topic.

In Compassionate Justice Marshall examines two of Jesus’s parables (The Good Samaritan and The Prodigal Son) through the lenses of restorative justice, and suggests that reading the parables through such lenses can influence contemporary justice practices. Here Marshall flexes his interdisciplinary muscles by engaging in critical biblical scholarship and dialoguing with the most recent scholarship in law and criminology. Marshall’s basic argument is that these parables are stories of justice as restoration rather than simply stories of mercy. Thus, Jesus teaches us the importance of compassion in justice by telling these stories.

The basic thrust of the restorative justice movement is that criminal justice should focus more on the needs of victims and the restoration of ruptured relationships than the mere punishment of offenders. Generally speaking, western legal systems understand justice as the punishment of criminals or, more metaphysically, the balancing of the cosmic scales of justice by inflicting an appropriate amount of pain and/or shame on those who have caused pain/shame. Crime, in this general framework, is understood primarily as a violation against the state or a cosmic scale of justice. Against this understanding, restorative justice advocates and practitioners argue that crime is primarily harm done to persons and relationships rather than primarily harm done to the state. Thus, justice is primarily the righting of the wrongs done to persons and relationships and not primarily about wrongs done to the state.

Reading Jesus’s two most famous parables through the lenses of restorative justice, then, highlights the ways that these parables are about the restoration of persons and relationships. Jesus teaches that what is required in instances of injury is the restoration of those persons/relationships that have been injured. For example, in the story of the good Samaritan we see the Samaritan take steps to make right all of those things that were made wrong. Where the robbed man is ignored the Samaritan gives him attention. Where he is robbed the Samaritan provides for him financially. Where he is physically injured the Samaritan provides for his physical healing. Where he is left in the elements the Samaritan provides him with shelter. It is not just that the Samaritan shows the robbed man mercy, but he meets the exact needs that arise from the injustice he endured. In this, the Samaritan engages in restorative justice.

In a similar manner, Marshall shows us how the father in the story of the prodigal son restores the son to his proper relationship as a son. The way that Jesus tells the story makes it clear that the prodigal does great harm to his relationship with his father (and his brother). In an honor/shame society the prodigal’s actions serve to sever the parent-child relationship he has with his father. Thus, when he is starving in a far-away country he can only imagine returning to his father’s house as a servant. However, his father restores him to the status of son by his treatment of him upon return. Similarly, the prodigal’s brother refuses to even call him brother but refers to his brother as “this son of yours.” However, the father pleads with the brother to accept the prodigal as a brother. The story, then, can be read as a story of the restoration of relationship – as a story of restorative justice.

Importantly, both of these parables highlight the place of compassion for the restoration of relationship and the doing of justice. Marshall, therefore, argues for a place for compassion in justice. Arguing primarily with Annalise Acorn’s book Compulsory Compassion: A Critique of Restorative Justice, Marshall employs these parables, as well as his vast knowledge of the literature in restorative justice, to argue for the appropriateness of compassion in criminal justice.

The book is interdisciplinary, well-researched, and accessible. It continues Marshall’s important contributions both to biblical studies and restorative justice. Anyone interested in biblical studies, criminal and restorative justice, reconciliation, and methods in interdisciplinary scholarship should read this book. It receives my strongest recommendation.

Stations of the Cross

A piece of visual theology for Good Friday…

banksy stations of the cross

You can read about this incredible piece here.

A chance to win $10,000: Or, the abuse of the Bible by Creationists

Joseph Mastropaolo is offering $10,000 to anyone who can disprove a literal interpretation of the Genesis account of creation in a formal debate/minitrial. My question, of course, is which Genesis account? The one in Genesis 1:1-2:3 where God creates the universe in six days with humans being created after all the plants and animals? Or the one in Genesis 2:4ff where God creates one human before God creates the plants and animals and a second human is created after the plants and animals? Oh wait, did I just disprove a literal reading of BOTH accounts in just a couple of sentences? Do you think I can get my $10,000 in cash?

I’ve long said in private that the thing I am most ashamed of in my time in ministry is teaching a bunch of impressionable teenagers “creation science” over a summer. Discovering in college that the first two chapters of Genesis contained two different creation stories started me on a long journey to rejecting fundamentalist/literalist readings of scripture. The Bible is a theological collection of texts. It is not a history textbook and it is most definitely not a science text book. I believe that Genesis 1-2 contains much theological truth about God, humans, the universe, and social life. For example, we learn that God’s creation is good, that humans are created in God’s image, that humans are called by God to be good stewards of the earth, that humans are created for community, and many other things. I also believe that attempts to use these beautiful, ancient, and sacred texts as science/history proof-texts is a gross abuse of the texts.

And for me, this is the takeaway: This version of Biblicism is an abuse of scripture to further political agendas and causes people to expend energy fighting fights that scripture is unconcerned with the faithful fighting. But those who espouse this version of Biblicism have convinced many that theirs is the only faithful way to read the scripture they abuse. In this way, those who insist that this is the way Christians should interpret scripture and expend their energy are our contemporary world’s false prophets. I speak this word out of my own experience. They once convinced me to spend my time arguing with science teachers instead of serving them. And they convinced me that my faith was more tied to my belief about the dating of the earth than about loving my neighbors. This was all wrong on a pastoral level and is also wrong on a theological level. There is no one “biblical account” of creation in scripture. There are at least two. And that teaches us that scripture is theology and not science. Those who insist we read it as science misunderstand the purpose of scripture and are misleading millions.

Book Review: A Faith Embracing All Creatures

a faith embracing all creatures(A Faith Embracing All Creatures is the second book in The Peaceable Kingdom Series being published by Cascade/Wipf and Stock. I reviewed the first book in this series, A Faith Not Worth Fighting For, here.)

The Peaceable Kingdom Series is a multi-volume series that seeks to challenge the pervasive violence assumed necessary in relation to humans, nonhumans, and the larger environment.” Each individual volume is set up in such a way so that each chapter is a response to a commonly asked question skeptical about the topic at hand. Each chapter is written by a theological scholar or engaged Christian practitioner versed in the topic. In this way, the series is one of the best examples of “public scholarship” that I am aware of. It brings some of the best thinking on pressing issues into the hands of “everyday” readers. For this, I applaud the editors and publishers.

The second volume in the series sets out to answer questions about and argue for the Christian call to “embrace all creatures.” The primary focus of most of the essays is advocating for Christians to eat a vegan, or at least vegetarian, diet. However, other instances of human-animal interactions (such as laboratory testing) are mentioned as well. The primary thrust of the book’s argument is that God’s eschatological kingdom is one which will know no violence – including violence against animals. The Church and Christians, called to embody this kingdom in the here and now as much as possible, are thus called in their discipleship to reject violence against their fellow breathing creatures. Faithful kingdom discipleship is discipleship that rejects violence of any kind.

The book begins in Genesis 1 and the question of human dominion, proceeds through questions about the covenant with Noah, animal sacrifices in the Old Testament, and Jesus eating fish and lamb. If God called on humans to sacrifice animals or if Jesus ate animals, for example, why are Christians supposed to abstain from eating animals? These are the kinds of questions that Christian vegetarians and vegans often face and that the authors attempt to answer. The advocates of Christian vegetarianism are meeting meat-eating Christians on their own terms.

In my opinion, the chapters that address specific biblical texts generally fail to convince. For example, in chapter 9 Annika Spalde and Pelle Strindlund take on the story of Jesus healing the man possessed by a “legion” of demons who then, with Jesus’s permission, leave the man and enter into pigs which commit mass suicide. “Clearly,” skeptical Christians say to Christian vegetarians, “this shows that Jesus values human life more than animal life. Indeed, here Jesus views animals as mere property that can be killed at a moment’s notice. How can you then affirm that humans shouldn’t kill animals for food when Jesus “killed” a multitude of animals in this story?”

Spalde and Strindlund, in my opinion, do a wonderful job of presenting an anti-imperial reading of the text. Naming the demon(s) “Legion,” for instance, is clearly an allusion to the Roman imperial army. Also, several of the Greek words in the story (such as apostello, agele, and epetrepsen autois) are words that had military connotations. And the pigs in the story act in ways quite unnatural to pigs; for example, rushing forward in unison rather than in multiple directions. Clearly, something out of the ordinary is up. For Spalde and Strindlund, then, this story is best read (metaphorically?) as a story of Jesus challenging imperial violence. They say, “That Mark and the other authors depict the destruction of animals is unfortunate. Yet it is also the case that no moral lesson regarding our relationship to animals can be derived from this text since it is really about Jesus’s interaction with a powerful military regime…This text is about a person possessed by a military spirit, whom Jesus freed; God Almight versus imperial might – that is the structure of this text” (107).

While I find this interpretation intriguing and plausible (and exciting!), it is clear that Mark and the early church also understood this event to be something that actually happened. And most Christians today will read it in the same way. Jesus gave permission for demons to kill pigs. Likewise, God did command ancient Israel to sacrifice thousands of animals, Jesus as a Jew who spent much time in Galilee likely did eat fish, and occasionally lamb, etc. There may indeed be reasons for these actions that point to a deeper meaning, but these animals were harmed according to God’s action, most Christians believe. The interpretive moves taken to explain away these likely historical facts are, in the end, unconvincing.

However, those places where the authors bring out themes in scripture which support a contemporary vegetarian diet are compelling. Specifically, the authors collectively argue that 1) the dominion given humans in Genesis 1 is to be a dominion exercised in a spirit of servanthood rather than dominance, imitating the loving and sacrificial dominion of God and lordship of Christ, 2) God clearly cares for animals and we are called to care for them as well, 3) the kingdom of God will be one where wolves lie with lambs, and natural predators no longer eat their prey, so that should be modeled in the here and now, and 4) it appears that Adam and Eve had only a vegetarian diet before the fall and the killing of animals for clothing and food only comes after sin enters the world. All of these are compelling themes which, if nothing else, teach us that we should treat animals with more compassion and care than we currently do.

And here is where the volume is at its most compelling: In chapter 11, titled “Are We Addicted to the Suffering of Animals?” John Berkman paints a picture of factory farms that is deplorable. This picture is not new to those familiar with this field or who have watched Food Inc. or other such documentaries. Simply speaking, the mass production of animals for food in developed countries is inhumane. This, in conjunction with the negative effects such food production has on the poor around the world, is a compelling reason for Christians to remove themselves as much as possible from the system to maintain some semblance of moral purity.

About five years ago my wife and I began lessening meat in our diet for exactly these reasons. First, we stopped buying red meat. Then we stopped buying chicken breasts. Then ground turkey. Now, we only buy fish on occasion, and usually from local vendors, and we typically only eat meat when eating out or at the home of another family. We are now calling ourselves “social meat eaters.” We have done this for a combination of reasons, but one dominant one is the gross amount of injustice tied to the factory farming of animals. This stance, for us, has meant a drastic reduction in meat consumption, but we still do partake at holidays, celebrations, and as an act of hospitality to those who host us. (Interestingly, there is a chapter in the volume that argues that Christian hospitality does not require accepting the gifts of others when in their home, but actually requires hospitality to those who enter your home – including animals.)

Unfortunately, there is relatively little space in the volume outside of Berkman’s essay devoted to these issues – though they are the most powerful argument for contemporary vegeatarianism. Also unfortunate is a lack of elaboration upon a few statements made by ecologist and evolutionary biologist Mark Bekoff in the preface. Bekoff says that “Once we realize the common bonds of compassion we share with other animals…[we will make] different choices about who (not what) we eat and buy, how we educate, entertain, and amuse ourselves, and how we conduct research” (xi). He says that animals “are rational, sentient creatures who care as much about their lives as we do our own” (xii). I wish more had been said about this topic.

And it is here that we find the greatest weakness in the book. In its laudable determination to answer the questions many Christians are actually asking it focuses disproportionately on questions of biblical interpretation. This approach is not compelling, however, because these are the wrong questions. The average person will not find several of the arguments made throughout the book convincing because to ask such questions is to read the Bible differently than the authors in the text. It is clear that the “biblical world” is one that assumes the owning, killing, and eating of animals. There may be, and I am convinced is, a biblical move in the direction of compassion and care for all of God’s creatures, but it is not one towards a principled veganism. To imply that there is such an ethic in the Bible seems to be imposing modern concerns upon an ancient text. This weakness in the book exposes a broader weakness in some strands of Christian theology and ethics; simply speaking, the Bible doesn’t have an answer for everything we face in the modern world.

The factory farming of animals didn’t exist in the world of the Bible. The links between the food industrial complex and climate change, global poverty, and obesity in wealthy countries were unthinkable. The production of animals too big to walk because they are so overfed and pumped full of steroids was centuries away. The Bible is not all we need when doing ethics. We need the Wesleyan quadrilateral or the hermeneutical circle or Ernst Troeltsch/H.R. Niebuhr’s triadic approach to faith, history, and ethics. We need more than the Bible to tackle the ethics of how humans treat animals. In short, we need to take seriously historical experience, the natural and social sciences, and other forms of knowledge available to us. The authors recognize this, and several incorporate such analyses into their chapters. However, these detours from the questions that drive the text are too brief to convert the unbeliever.

In my opinion, questions of social justice should push American Christians to limit their meat consumption and to challenge the existing system of food production. It is unjust, unhealthy, and inhumane. However, this doesn’t necessarily lead one to totally abstain from eating meat. If one can find and afford sustainable and humane meat, cheese, and eggs, I see no reason why eating them should be avoided from a social justice perpective. Indeed, we should encourage Christians and others to participate in these alternative and local forms of food production and economic systems. The case for totally abstaining from eating animals, it seems to me, rests on Bekoff’s claims about what we have come to know about animal rationality and emotions and our “bonds of compassion” with them. I am not well read in the science that is beginning to show that animals are more “human” than we have imagined, but I know that it exists. An accessible summary of that research would have been more compelling than an essay arguing that Jesus might not have eaten lamb at the last supper.

Still, taking seriously the eschatological vision of predators lying with their prey and God’s loving care of all creation are important biblical themes that Christians should more seriously consider. And many of the passages Christians point to to justify their harsh treatment of animals, like Genesis 1, are misused when used that way. These are important corrections to much popular understanding of the Christian faith. However, I am unconvinced that the Christian faith requires a plant-based diet for all Christians across time and culture. If this is not the case, then the contextual argument for contemporary vegetarianism/veganism in the developed world must be made by answering different questions. Berkman’s essay is a step in this direction. To find answers to similar questions one must look elsewhere.

The Quartet of the Vulnerable

I am currently co-teaching a three-month Sunday school course on “The Bible and Justice.” This past Sunday I mentioned what Nicholas Wolterstorff has called “the quartet of the vulnerable” in the Old Testament. He names the poor/oppressed, orphans, widows, and resident aliens as people of special concern in ancient Israel’s vision of social justice. He says,

A striking feature of how the Old Testament writers talk about justice is the frequency with which they connect justice, both primary and rectifying (i.e. social justice and legal justice), with the treatment of widows, orphans, resident aliens, and the poor…

The widows, the orphans, the resident aliens, and the impoverished were the bottom ones, the low ones, the lowly. That is how Israel’s writers spoke of them. Given their position at the bottom of the social hierarchy, they were especially vulnerable to being treated with injustice. They were downtrodden, as our old English translations nicely put it. The rich and the powerful put them down, tread on them, trampled them. Rendering justice to them is often described as “lifting them up.”

The prophets and the psalmist do not argue the case that alleviating the plight of the lowly is required by justice. They assume it. When they speak of God’s justice, when the enjoin their hearers to practice justice, they take for granted that justice requires alleviating the plight of the lowly. They save their breath for urging readers to actually practice justice to the quartet of the vulnerable low ones.

It seems safe to infer that they did not have to deal with the contention, common in present-day American, that it is the fault of the poor themselves that they are poor and that, accordingly, they have no right to aid. Apparently, they did not have to deal with the contention that such aid as comes their way is charity, not justice, for which the poor ought to be grateful. Israel’s writers sometimes describe help for the lowly as mercy; but the idea was not abroad that it is only a matter of mercy, not a matter of justice…

Israel’s writers must have believed that when we look at the actual condition of widows, orphans, resident aliens, and the poor and compare it with the condition of other social classes, we discover that the former are not only disproportionately vulnerable to injustice but usually disproportionately actual victims of injustice. Injustice is not equally distributed. Teh low ones enjoy those goods wo which they have a right – food, clothing, voice, security, whatever – far less than do the high and mighty ones…

I suggest that it was because the orientation of Israel’s writers was practical rather than theoretical that the quartet of the vulnerable low ones looms so large in their writings. What they say about justice and injustice occurs withint the context of an imperative they had heard from Yahweh and that they now announced to their fellows: seek justice, undo the bonds of injustice. Israel’s religion was a religion of salvation, not of contemplation – that is what accounts for the mantra of the widows, the orphans, the aliens, and the poor. Not a religion of salvation from this earthly existence but a religion of salvation from injustice in this earthly existence. Nicholas Wolterstorff, Justice: Rights and Wrongs, 75-79.

One place where this quartet of the vulnerable is clearly evident, and where practical means of doing justice for them, is found in Deuteronomy 24:10-22. It reads:

10 When you make a loan of any kind to your neighbor, do not go into their house to get what is offered to you as a pledge. 11 Stay outside and let the neighbor to whom you are making the loan bring the pledge out to you. 12 If the neighbor is poor, do not go to sleep with their pledge in your possession. 13 Return their cloak by sunset so that your neighbor may sleep in it. Then they will thank you, and it will be regarded as a righteous act in the sight of the Lord your God.

14 Do not take advantage of a hired worker who is poor and needy, whether that worker is a fellow Israelite or a foreigner residing in one of your towns. 15 Pay them their wages each day before sunset, because they are poor and are counting on it. Otherwise they may cry to the Lord against you, and you will be guilty of sin.

16 Parents are not to be put to death for their children, nor children put to death for their parents; each will die for their own sin.

17 Do not deprive the foreigner or the fatherless of justice, or take the cloak of the widow as a pledge. 18 Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and the Lord your God redeemed you from there. That is why I command you to do this.

19 When you are harvesting in your field and you overlook a sheaf, do not go back to get it. Leave it for the foreigner, the fatherless and the widow, so that the Lord your God may bless you in all the work of your hands. 20 When you beat the olives from your trees, do not go over the branches a second time. Leave what remains for the foreigner, the fatherless and the widow. 21 When you harvest the grapes in your vineyard, do not go over the vines again. Leave what remains for the foreigner, the fatherless and the widow. 22 Remember that you were slaves in Egypt. That is why I command you to do this.

In ancient Israel, immigrants, widows, orphans, and the poor were those on the very bottom of society. Thus, God’s law and prophets consistently show a special concern that they are treated justly. I think Wolterstorff is right that this is due, in part, because they were the ones most likely to be treated unjustly.

I wonder who might make up the quartet today? Clearly, we still have the poor and aliens who are taken advantage of and abused. And, while widowhood no longer necessarily means poverty and we care for our parent-less children differently than in ancient times, there is a case to be made that our elderly widows and orphans/foster children are some of the most vulnerable people in our society. I know others who might suggest that those caught in slavery or children living in our ghettoes might fit this bill.

Who do you think make up our quartet of the vulnerable today? In your neighborhood? Nationally? Globally? God’s people have always been called to show special concern for those at the very bottom. It’s a matter of justice and justice is a matter of faithfulness. How are you doing justice in light of the vulnerable in your world?

An informal introduction to Womanist theology from Rahiel Tesfamariam

I have “met” some wonderful people on twitter. One of those people has been Urban Cusp founder and Washington Post columnist Rahiel Tesfamariam. Rahiel is passionately engaged in issues of faith, justice, and politics, especially as they affect urban communities. Occasionally, she’ll give “twitter sermons” that inspire and challenge. Today she gave one that, in my opinion, is one of the best short introductions to Womanist theology that I’ve ever seen. I’ve included the “sermon” below. Enjoy!

This is an example of why I think Womanist theology is one of the most powerful correctives to a lot of popular theology. Scripture, when read a certain way, can be a source of further humiliation, pain, and degradation rather than of hope and salvation. Womanists force us to face that truth and read scripture with new eyes that see the marginalized in our midst. Our churches are full of broken women who read the stories of the abuse, rape, ownership, and sacrifice of women and are told (often, though not always, by men) that this is God’s way in the world. Womanist readings of scripture shine the interrogators light on this practice and expose its ugly side. For this, we should be grateful.

And, as I wrote that paragraph Rahiel tweeted this:

My fellow male Christians, I guarantee that if your church is of any moderate size there are women there who have been abused, molested, raped, and taken advantage of, and those wounds are often reopened by the sermons we preach and lessons we teach on the many passages that speak of the abuse of women. The statistics bear this out – churches are, sadly, no better than the rest of society. A significant percentage of women in America, around the world – and in our churches! – will experience physical and/or sexual violence in their lifetime.

When is the last time you heard a sermon or attended a class on domestic violence in the church? Or on care of rape victims? Or on any other such topic? In my experience, there are more often sermons and lessons that encourage women to silently bear such abuse – through appeals to patience, Christ’s suffering, or even by blaming them for their abuse. Victims are often called to repent for not patiently bearing their abuse rather than perpetrators to repent for their violent oppressions. This is sinful, and womanists help us to see that it is sinful.

Indeed, there are more often sermons that encourage men to “be more manly” – meaning to be more authoritative, more willing to impose one’s will, and encouraging women to submit to the (often violent) way this “manly” authority is practiced. All of this is wrong because it too often leads to the continued abuse of women in the world. This is the exact opposite of what the Christian gospel, best exemplified in the ministry of Jesus, is meant to do.

Jesus empowered women and challenged cultural norms by inviting them to be disciples of a rabbi in a world where this was rare (Luke 10:38-42). Jesus invited women to be the first evangelists by being the first people he appeared to after the resurrection (Matthew 28). Jesus learned from “minority” women when they challenged him about his teaching (Matthew 15:21-28). Jesus was dependent upon women for the financial viability of his ministry (Luke 8:1-3). Jesus protected women from their exploitation and abuse in the legal system (John 8:1-11). And Jesus inaugurated a new kingdom in which both “sons and daughters shall prophesy” and all have equal standing before God and each other. Anything that goes against this goes against the ways of the Kingdom of God and the desires of God for the world.

Let us listen to and learn from our sisters who tell us that there are stories in scripture that can be harmful. Otherwise, we may continue to perpetuate their abuse as told in those scriptural stories.

Book Review: The Sacredness of Human Life by David Gushee

The Sacredness of Human Life - GusheeDavid Gushee is an excellent ethicist. His work on the Holocaust and Evangelical ethics are standards in their respective fields, and his social activism on combatting torture and climate change and advocating for human rights places him in the esteemed tradition of Christian social ethics in the United States. His newest book continues this legacy of top-notch scholarship in Christian ethics and makes an important contribution to studies in theology and human rights.

The Sacredness of Human Life is an ambitious book. It traces the roots of modern human rights throughout the Christian scriptures and Christian theology. Importantly, Gushee emphasizes that these roots lie in the sacredness, rather than mere dignity, that humans possess. This sacredness, in an account compatible with Nicholas Wolterstorff’s account of besowed worth in his important Justice: Rights and Wrongs, flows primarily from God and not from anything inherent in human beings themselves. Thus, he again joins Wolterstorff in rejecting “capacities approaches” (claims that some human capacity, like reason or the ability to govern, are the image of God) to grounding human rights in the image of God. Gushee says,

…I reject their claim that there is something intrinsic or inherent about biological humanity that makes it valuable or constitutes it as the image of God. I claim that humanity’s sacred worth is an ascribed status willed by God and communicated through God’s actions, commands, and declarations, one of them being God’s revelation that all human beings are made in the image of God. We can’t go looking for something in humanity that in and of itself gains us value and worth – the sacredness of human life is God’s decision, to which we human beings must accede and by which we must orient our lives. (p. 46)

Thus, Gushee rejects the assumptions in arguments about abortion around the “personhood” of a fetus. He says “all distinctions between human beings and persons are purely speculative, lack groundng in biblical revelation, and have proven hugely dangerous,” and therefore rejects any “distinction between biological human life and personhood” (45). This is sure to be one of the most controversial portions of the text.

In general, this portion of the book is compelling and well-argued. I maintain that the attempt to ground human rights in the imago dei is an appropriate one, even though I also reject capacities approaches, and am seeking to do so by drawing on social triniarian theology in my dissertation. However, Gushee’s critiques and reticence are well-founded.

In tracing the history of Christian thought related to these themes Gushee is careful not to paint too rosy a picture of Christian history. He is clear that while profound resources for the grounding and pursuit of human rights go “all the way down” in the Christian tradition, there is also a history of the Christian violation of the rights of many humans – often those whose skin was of a darker hue. Therefore, he joins the chorus of those scholars after R. Scott Appleby who have highlighted “the ambivalence of the sacred” in human social life. Indeed, even in those instances where Christians have justified their violations of human rights through appeals to their scriptures and theological doctrines there have often been others who were leaders in challenging such violations.

From here Gushee marches through the history of western philosophy and engages thinkers as diverse as John Locke, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Adolf Hitler. In tracing this history Gushee highlights the important contributions of the Christian tradition to the development of modern rights, supports the thesis that much of modern rights discourse and practices are feeding on the cultural capital of the western Christian tradition, and insists that abandoning these resources is a dangerous proposition. However, he does not do this in any triumphant or Constantinian way. Rather, it is with a humility learned through serious engagement with the history of Christianity’s sins. However, it also recognizes the sins of modernity and insists that the Christian tradition still has much to teach us and contribute to social life.

Gushee then applies the belief that human life is sacred to a variety of challenges facing us today: abortion and end-of-life care, the death pealty, nuclear weaons, modern warfare, and global women’s rights, for example. And then he bravely addresses the challenge of whether a strong commitment to human sacredness is part of he problem in the climate and environmental crises we are facing around the world. In the end, Gushee insists that a commitment to the sacredness of human life can go hand-in-hand with deep commitments to environmental justice and care, but the ambiguity of such a position is present throughout the chapter on the topic.

In the end, the book covers far too much ground to be done justice in a review on a blog. However, it can be said that this is an excellent text which merits reading by all who care about Christian theology and ethics, human rights, and creating a just world. It is a first-rate piece of scholarship that is, for the most part, accessible to the informed lay reader. And it is useful in mobilizing action in support of human rights locally and globally. I believe it will join Gushee’s Kingdom Ethics as a standard in the field.

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