before adding my thoughts, i wanted to share a section of an article written by james k.a. smith (some of you are familiar with him) that i came across on his website.
the article addresses several issues that i think will present us with some interesting and beneficial points of discussion. at the very least, some of you will decide to be offended, which if nothing else will make things lively.
Ronald Reagan was no intellectual, but he had an earnest faith in ideas and he spent decades working through them. He was rooted in the Midwest, but he also loved Hollywood. And for a time, it seemed the Republican Party would be a broad coalition — small-town values with coastal reach.
In 1976, in a close election, Gerald Ford won the entire West Coast along with northeastern states like New Jersey, Connecticut, Vermont and Maine. In 1984, Reagan won every state but Minnesota.
But over the past few decades, the Republican Party has driven away people who live in cities, in highly educated regions and on the coasts. This expulsion has had many causes. But the big one is this: Republican political tacticians decided to mobilize their coalition with a form of social class warfare. Democrats kept nominating coastal pointy-heads like Michael Dukakis so Republicans attacked coastal pointy-heads.
Over the past 15 years, the same argument has been heard from a thousand politicians and a hundred television and talk-radio jocks. The nation is divided between the wholesome Joe Sixpacks in the heartland and the oversophisticated, overeducated, oversecularized denizens of the coasts.
What had been a disdain for liberal intellectuals slipped into a disdain for the educated class as a whole. The liberals had coastal condescension, so the conservatives developed their own anti-elitism, with mirror-image categories and mirror-image resentments, but with the same corrosive effect.
The federal electoral game has come down to a tribalism. The presidential debates have amounted to little more than another opportunity for the candidates to preach to their respective choirs. And thus campaigns come down to little more than a bet on who has the bigger choir, and who can motivate their choir to come out and vote. Since the elite choir that the Republican party really serves is so small, they had to look for a cagey way to find another choir. Their bet--embodied in Palin--is that there is a massive, perhaps largely quiet, choir composed of Joe Sixpacks in the middle of the country--a choir whose anthem is a long disdain for complexity and "learning."
But that's not "conservatism." It is a wanton disdain for the wisdom of the past that has spiraled into a reverie of ignorance cloaked as "common sense." That such people get a vote is exactly why conservatism has always had an uneasy relationship with democracy.
i don't think anyone from any edge of the political spectrum will deny after some reflection that the dichotomy smith observes as developing over the last few decades between the anti-elitism of the right and the condescension of the left, has manifested itself in the current nominees for president and vice president from the two dominant parties, or at least in the way their campaigns have operated.
consider the rejected candidacy of dr. ron paul. i would argue, and i think many would agree that no candidate from either party is more qualified to address the current economic crisis of this country. furthermore, in my opinion, ron paul was the ONLY republican candidate with a sane foreign policy. obviously, i can't prove this by any means, but i wonder how many people chose not to vote for him because of the way he spoke (that is to say, his vernacular was that of a college professor rather than a big game hunter) and the fact that he was interested in engaging in legitimate, intelligent political debate about relevant issues, rather than stirring people up with one-line zingers or cheap appeals to patriotism, anger or fear.
understandably, what the GOP has come up with are two candidates who either are, or present themselves as, the opposite of intellectual. an example would be in tonight's debate, mccain criticized obama, who, after presenting his energy plan which he claimed would aggressively pursue alternative energy and push oil companies to drill on the thousands of acres of land they already own but have yet to make use of, said he would also think about off-shore drilling. mccain chuckled and emphasized obama's use of the word, 'think.' off-shore drilling, he insisted, must be started immediately; considering one's options, reflecting on the possible consequences of one's actions, etc—that's pointy-headed east-coast mumbo jumbo!
it cannot be ignored that mccain's critique here is indicative of a hyper-consumerist worldview which demands immediate (and necessarily temporary) satiation of one's most immediate desires (which are perceived as needs).
then we have sarah palin, who makes barack obama look over-qualified. what at first to me seemed a very curious choice for a running mate, is now making more and more sense. she is the complete opposite of an academic, for one thing. she stays away from the big words ron paul used, as well as the big issues he addressed. while she accurately reminds us that she didn't come out of washington and is just like all the joe (and jane) plumbers out there, she brings nothing new, innovative, or interesting to the political table; she totes the neo-conservative line and is sure to throw in a few smackeroos in her speeches. while i would thus not be inclined to vote for jane plumber, that, my friends (as mccain would say), is more than enough to scoop up the votes john has been after since 2000.
of course, i can't go without addressing my problems with the other side of the aisle, but i'll save that for another time.
thoughts?
25 October 2008
On the Eucharist: A Few Quandaries (9/16/08)
The topic of transubstantiation is a complicated one and has been creeping around in the recesses of my brain for the last several months. The purpose of this note is to hear the opinions of as many respected friends and elders as possible, because at this point in my research and meditations on the subject I’m still left with more questions than answers.
Lately I’ve been working from the (in)famous John 6 discourse. If you’re not familiar with it, I’d recommend reading 6:23-58 and the surrounding context. Generally what this comes down to in the never-ending historical debate is whether we are to take Jesus’ words literally or figuratively; and I’ll also go ahead and just posit my own opinion that verse 63, which is often argued as Christ’s clarification that he was speaking metaphorically, does not point to the use of language, but rather to the nature of faith.
What also strikes me about this passage is that Jesus, as he does often in his teachings, seems to be drawing a parallel between the words he is speaking and the Old Testament canon. In this case, at least as I read it, he wants his listeners to identify themes of the current topic—which is his claim that he is the bread of Heaven—with the events in Exodus 16 where God provides the Israelites miraculously with manna from Heaven.
I think it’s also important to note how confused his disciples were after this conversation, so when we look ahead to the Last Supper in Luke 22, I wonder if light bulbs were going off for them at that meal. While at the time it had seemed so strange for Christ to tell them that those saved by him would eat his flesh and drink his blood, it must have finally clicked to see him holding the unleavened bread and the wine, saying “This is my body, broken for you, and the blood that I will spill for you to establish a new covenant between you and God. Remember me and what I have done for you every time you have this meal.”
So here again we are faced with this same question as to what sense Jesus was speaking in. Yet, whether figurative or literal, it seems to be clear that we are to understand the bread and wine of Holy Communion in a similar sense as the manna from Heaven.
Beyond this, I also wonder how important this issue is to our theologies. It was expressed to me by one pastor that he would rather err to the side of transubstantiation because he does not want to limit the power of God to perform such a miracle. To me, the strength of such a position would be that it provides room for the mystery of our faith in which we so often hope against hope, as Paul put it, that the impossible will be made possible. On the other hand, I am sensitive to the concerns of many denominations about this; namely ramifications leading to the bloated role of the clergy in Eucharistic prayer, versus the priesthood of all believers. I think this is the issue most important to Protestant Christians since we would obviously reject the need for the historical Roman Catholic re-presentation of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, which is often used as another argument against transubstantiation. This idea, to me, does not seem to be essentially tied up with the notion of transubstantiation. What I mean to say is that in this context, I think it is necessary to distinguish the notion of transubstantiation from a particular denomination and its associated doctrines or traditions.
At this point it is perhaps appropriate for me to lay out my current position, however shaky or unfounded it may be, for the sake of feedback. Furthermore, I won't even attempt to organize the following into an organized series of points.
I do think that the nature of our faith is mysterious and not propositional, so I think that to some extent any beliefs about the Eucharist must reflect that. I believe that there is a miracle that takes place in the sacrament of Holy Communion; perhaps transubstantiation is part of it. However I think more importantly, we are recipients of grace in that any actions which are in accordance with God's commands draw us closer to him. Beyond that, I think the Eucharist is unique in that there are such obvious communal ramifications; not only do we draw nearer to God, but we also can sense his grace in our drawing near to one another unified in thankful remembrance of Christ whose body was broken and whose blood was poured out; our only means of salvation. I also think based on John 6 and Exodus 16 that if a transubstantiation takes place, the miracle is not because of a prayer or a priest, but because of God's drawing us deeper into a faith that can move mountains...
...or facilitate Christ's presence in the elements we receive at the Lord's table.
Lately I’ve been working from the (in)famous John 6 discourse. If you’re not familiar with it, I’d recommend reading 6:23-58 and the surrounding context. Generally what this comes down to in the never-ending historical debate is whether we are to take Jesus’ words literally or figuratively; and I’ll also go ahead and just posit my own opinion that verse 63, which is often argued as Christ’s clarification that he was speaking metaphorically, does not point to the use of language, but rather to the nature of faith.
What also strikes me about this passage is that Jesus, as he does often in his teachings, seems to be drawing a parallel between the words he is speaking and the Old Testament canon. In this case, at least as I read it, he wants his listeners to identify themes of the current topic—which is his claim that he is the bread of Heaven—with the events in Exodus 16 where God provides the Israelites miraculously with manna from Heaven.
I think it’s also important to note how confused his disciples were after this conversation, so when we look ahead to the Last Supper in Luke 22, I wonder if light bulbs were going off for them at that meal. While at the time it had seemed so strange for Christ to tell them that those saved by him would eat his flesh and drink his blood, it must have finally clicked to see him holding the unleavened bread and the wine, saying “This is my body, broken for you, and the blood that I will spill for you to establish a new covenant between you and God. Remember me and what I have done for you every time you have this meal.”
So here again we are faced with this same question as to what sense Jesus was speaking in. Yet, whether figurative or literal, it seems to be clear that we are to understand the bread and wine of Holy Communion in a similar sense as the manna from Heaven.
Beyond this, I also wonder how important this issue is to our theologies. It was expressed to me by one pastor that he would rather err to the side of transubstantiation because he does not want to limit the power of God to perform such a miracle. To me, the strength of such a position would be that it provides room for the mystery of our faith in which we so often hope against hope, as Paul put it, that the impossible will be made possible. On the other hand, I am sensitive to the concerns of many denominations about this; namely ramifications leading to the bloated role of the clergy in Eucharistic prayer, versus the priesthood of all believers. I think this is the issue most important to Protestant Christians since we would obviously reject the need for the historical Roman Catholic re-presentation of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, which is often used as another argument against transubstantiation. This idea, to me, does not seem to be essentially tied up with the notion of transubstantiation. What I mean to say is that in this context, I think it is necessary to distinguish the notion of transubstantiation from a particular denomination and its associated doctrines or traditions.
At this point it is perhaps appropriate for me to lay out my current position, however shaky or unfounded it may be, for the sake of feedback. Furthermore, I won't even attempt to organize the following into an organized series of points.
I do think that the nature of our faith is mysterious and not propositional, so I think that to some extent any beliefs about the Eucharist must reflect that. I believe that there is a miracle that takes place in the sacrament of Holy Communion; perhaps transubstantiation is part of it. However I think more importantly, we are recipients of grace in that any actions which are in accordance with God's commands draw us closer to him. Beyond that, I think the Eucharist is unique in that there are such obvious communal ramifications; not only do we draw nearer to God, but we also can sense his grace in our drawing near to one another unified in thankful remembrance of Christ whose body was broken and whose blood was poured out; our only means of salvation. I also think based on John 6 and Exodus 16 that if a transubstantiation takes place, the miracle is not because of a prayer or a priest, but because of God's drawing us deeper into a faith that can move mountains...
...or facilitate Christ's presence in the elements we receive at the Lord's table.
Thoughts From 'Dark Knight' (7/29/08)
Two moments in the movie stood out to me and have remained stuck in my head since then, so I thought I'd share them here and see what everyone else thought. SPOILER ALERT!! If you haven't seen the movie yet, stop here if don't want to be told about some important scenes. Come back later and comment!
repeat: SPOILER ALERT!!
1. While visiting Harvey Dent at Gotham General, the Joker, clad in a nurse's uniform said something quite poignant, though in discussing it, I am aware of the subtle irony in discussing any of his quotes. "WHY SO SERIOUS??" I could be asked, but oh well. To paraphrase, the Joker made the observation that people don't panic as long as things go according to plan, even if the plan itself is horrifying. I wonder how many people, like me, have found that statement to be accurate and in what instances.
2. The most interesting part of the movie for me was the ulterior concept of the climax. Two ferry boats were placed in a situation which demanded immediate action and required them to make a choice between two options; or at least they were led to believe there were two options. You've seen the movie so there's no reason for me to explain all that went on, but what I found so intriguing was the tension between democracy and humanity. In our cultural context we generally see these two terms as synonymous; democracy is the greatest, most moral system and the best way to ensure the dignity of human life. Now, I know this was a fictional situation, but I do think it was very indicative of real-life human nature. In this situation, as far as I saw it, democracy succeeded in serving it's purpose. However, even while functioning properly and efficiently in a time of crisis, we still must say it failed in the end, while the goodness of human nature prevailed. The ruling of the democratic system demanded by virtue of the majority that one group take the lives of another. It was only when those involved overruled the process to make for themselves a new option that hundreds of lives were spared. I think we can apply this critique to other situations in our system that are perhaps less extreme. In the movie, democracy failed because the only choices it provided were supplied by a manipulative force, rather than by those choosing. Again I wonder if anyone else can think of similarities to current affairs, or has ideas of how to enhance the democratic system.
We can tie these two scenes together by pondering whether modernity's democracy can be the plan mentioned by the Joker, only functioning as a levy against an unwanted or uncomfortable political situation, and how can we prevent that.
A Hypothetical (7/20/08)
You are in charge.
In a meeting with Secretary of Defense Gates and the joint chiefs of staff, you learn that a top-ranking Al-Qa'ida operative has been secretly plotting attacks world-wide from right under our noses here in the United States.
He is currently hiding out and coordinating with other terrorists from the basement of a small apartment building in, say, Atlanta.
A folder is pushed across the table to you.
The folder contains a plan to take out the Al-Qa'ida leader using tactics that have proved successful in similar situations in the mid-east.
In summary, the plan calls for a B-2 bomber to drop a precision-guided payload onto the building containing the terrorist.
Simple.
Of course, there will more than likely be civilian casualties which would mostly be those who live in the building, but also anyone in the immediate area would obviously be at great risk.
You are understandably concerned, but are informed that action must be taken now or never, and there is simply no other way.
What do you do? What would any leader past or present do? Why or why not?
I believe that the majority of you would not allow the plan to be carried out. The result would simply be too catastrophic, and for a variety of reasons you cannot find a way to ethically or morally justify such an action. Perhaps dozens of American citizens losing their lives for the sake of killing one man does not seem worth it or right. Or perhaps after the massive loss of life on 9/11 due to a terrorist attack, the idea of the American government itself taking the lives of civilians seems too outrageous.
That being said, how can the American government, or any government, justify the actions that have been, are currently, and will continue to be carried out in the 'War on Terror' and various other military operations. Hundreds of thousands of innocent lives have been lost in situations not unlike the hypothetical I described. The only difference is the location.
I am baffled at how so many Americans can say that the massive loss of life we see taking place on a daily basis as a result of US military action is simply "part of war" or "necessary to keep us safe" or "going to be worth it in the end." Some even say "they deserve it" or “they are evil, we are good.”
There are simply too many problems with any such reasoning to count. In the first place, philosophically speaking, the line drawn between rogue 'terrorist' and government sanctioned 'soldier' at this point in the failed project of the modern nation-state is, in my opinion, a thin one. And going back to my original track, why are you so inclined to let something happen in another country that you would be shocked and appalled and terrified at if it happened in your own?
There are those of course who jump immediately to claims of racism. I would say that this is true only to an extent. While there are obviously those who hate Arabs, Africans, and/or Jews, I feel that there is still an underlying philosophical groundwork and line of thinking, whether conscious or unconscious, at work here.
We all remember what watching the news was like during the weeks, months, and year or more following 9/11 and can imagine the media frenzy and public outcry that would take place if we learned that our own government had killed its own under the above hypothetical circumstance. So why is it that we are so complacent about this current war, its architects, and its allies who, in order to remove terrorist threats and political rivals, have claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands of civilians in Somalia, Lebanon, Israel, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Kuwait among other places?
The following are what I believe to be a few but not all of the basic key underlying philosophical issues that I'm interested in here more than whether or not war is right or wrong, and I invite any relevant thoughts and discussion as there is much more to these than the short fragments I list.
- Thinking along the lines of Zizek, the breakdown and/or inter-mingling of Virtual and Reality. Perhaps we do not really believe that the death we see on a television set, in the news paper, or in casualty reports is real or relevant.
- A la Benhabib, what grounds does the state have to do to outsiders what it would not think of doing to its own people?
- In considering Levinas, Derrida, et al., has the Other become so far removed from the Self, that we no longer see violent actions as such?
- Based on the teachings of Christ, should military action which knowingly, albeit not for its own end, takes the lives of civilians, be justified or condemned?
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