Friday, April 12, 2019

Hmmmmm...

I started there, and two days later find out this is apparently this is the Next Big Thing.*
A "religious left" is a fairly limited idea.  In the context of the question, it clearly means a political group with a basis in Christianity which can reconcile the public image of Christianity (politically conservative evangelical leaders and Trump supporters) with the political concepts associated with the left:  care for the poor, the immigrant, and "minorities."

In other words, can the public accept a version of Christianity as valid which is also neither evangelical nor right wing?

My answer is:  I don't know.

Should we do it by biblical references?  We'll end up proof-texting scriptures and "weaponizing" (the adverb of choice currently) the Bible.  Yes, that's been done before; do we want to take it up again?  I can cite many scriptures about caring for the poor, from the law of Moses to the letter of James, and all points in between.  I can cite the statistics on number of scriptures concerned with care for the poor, v. the number regarding abortion; or gun rights; or even governmental authority and the "virtues" of "small government" or "local control, or the evil of "judicial activism."  Yeah, those numbers get vanishingly small by the end of that catalog.  So?  If you don't understand the whole of the scriptures, you are like the eunuch in the book of Acts:

26 And the angel of the Lord spake unto Philip, saying, Arise, and go toward the south unto the way that goeth down from Jerusalem unto Gaza, which is desert.

27 And he arose and went: and, behold, a man of Ethiopia, an eunuch of great authority under Candace queen of the Ethiopians, who had the charge of all her treasure, and had come to Jerusalem for to worship,

28 Was returning, and sitting in his chariot read Esaias the prophet.

29 Then the Spirit said unto Philip, Go near, and join thyself to this chariot.

30 And Philip ran thither to him, and heard him read the prophet Esaias, and said, Understandest thou what thou readest?

31 And he said, How can I, except some man should guide me? And he desired Philip that he would come up and sit with him.

32 The place of the scripture which he read was this, He was led as a sheep to the slaughter; and like a lamb dumb before his shearer, so opened he not his mouth:

33 In his humiliation his judgment was taken away: and who shall declare his generation? for his life is taken from the earth.

34 And the eunuch answered Philip, and said, I pray thee, of whom speaketh the prophet this? of himself, or of some other man?

35 Then Philip opened his mouth, and began at the same scripture, and preached unto him Jesus.

Acts 8:26-35, KJV (I don't have my library with me, and besides I'm too lazy to type out a more modern and probably better translation; so I stick with the golden oldie.  Forgive me.)

Luke uses this story to put Jesus in a very Jewish context; but the broader lesson applies, too.  The Gentile can't understand the scriptures of the Jews (Isaiah=Esaias) without someone putting it in context.  This isn't really a radical, or even submissive, concept.  You can't understand the Baghavad Gita or the Koran without some context.  Scriptures are not novels, or an anthology of short stories or essays, or even a philosophical or scientific text.  How do you understand recent history, if you don't understand the history of time past?  How do you understand anything, if you don't understand the context?  Philip explains the passage from Isaiah in the specific context of the resurrection of Jesus; but if we take that specific context as the only one which explains all the words of the Bible, we distort the scriptures themselves.  Yet every method of exegesis of scriptures involves a hermeneutic; so there are hermeneutics which interpret all of scripture even more narrowly than this story (Philip, after all, is just addressing a few verses) by insisting the hermeneutic seemingly employed here is the only one appropriate and applicable to all of scripture.  And that, frankly, is a very "conservative" exegesis.  But is it a "right wing" exegesis?  Or is a "right wing" interpretation more a matter of whether the emphasis is on personal salvation, or on caring for the poor (the latter being a "left wing" position in modern American politics)?

And what definition of "faith" does Sen. Gillibrand use?  I have no idea.  It clearly doesn't make her a follower of Trump; then again, such followers are being more and more criticized for looking less like religious leaders, and more like political ones.  It's a fair cop, and one that can as easily be levied against Christian church leaders, if anybody in the media paid attention to what they said and did.

https://www.rawstory.com/2019/04/democrats-can-use-faith-crush-soulless-faithless-cult-trumpism-conservative-columnist/

This brings us to Pete Buttigieg, whose religious ideas I can know a bit more about.  And to cut to the chase, here's the problem:

And yet, precisely on the question of religion as an instrumental good, there is real cause for concern about Mayor Pete. His insistence that “Christian faith is going to point you in a progressive direction” is a bright-red flag, and ought to worry Christians regardless of their politics.

To say that Christianity points you in a progressive direction is in effect to say that Christianity and progressivism are synonymous. They aren’t. Neither are Christianity and conservatism. Christianity stands apart from and in judgment of all political ideologies; it doesn’t lend itself to being put in neat and tidy political categories. That doesn’t mean that at any particular moment in time a Christian ethic won’t lead people of faith to more closely align with one political and philosophical movement over another. But the temptation, always, is to politicize faith in ways that ultimately are discrediting.

That argument is not exactly "you can't be a Christian in public office," but more "You can't wear your version of Christianity on your sleeve."  Right-wing Christians can, of course; then again, their version of Christianity is practically synonymous with right-wing politics in America.  Most of Trump's evangelical "leaders" are not pastors at all, and those who are (Robert Jeffress is one exception that proves the rule) are not pastors in mainline denominations.  Makes it easier to declare what "the Bible says!" whatever they want it to say.  Then again, don't get me started (again!) on national flags in worship spaces.  Still, that quote is a succinct statement of at least one can of worms Buttigieg is opening.

Turns out Buttigieg is the author of this sudden interest in "religion" (read "Christianity") in politics (nobody ever asks about, or expects, a Jew to have religious issues in politics.  The closest I can come to is the former Sen. Lieberman, noted more for observing Shabbat and the holy days, than anything else.  Clearly he was religious, but did anyone think of it as important?).  Interestingly, he has prompted Alternet to post this description of modern American Christianity, on a website I knew of years ago for its absolute contempt for anything smacking of "modern American Christianity":

Christianity is broad and diverse, and even though Buttigieg is white, his views have a lot more in common with African-American AME congregations than with Dr. James Dobson, Tony Perkins and other white fundamentalists to which Trump has pandered. The AME Church has a long history of promoting liberal and progressive causes, and politically, AME congregations part company with the Christian right in many respects.

The attacks on Buttigieg underscore the strong divisions within Protestant Christianity. And far-right blogger Erick Erickson is attacking not only Buttigieg, but the Episcopal Church in general. On April 7, Erickson tweeted, “If Buttigieg thinks evangelicals should be supporting him instead of Trump, he fundamentally does not understand the roots of Christianity. But then, he is an Episcopalian; so he might not understand Christianity more than superficially.”

Part of the reason I don't care for Christianity being mentioned in political discussions is the quote from Erickson, whom I have no problem labeling an ignorant fool who certainly displays no more than a superficial understanding of Christianity.  But I had a lot of these arguments on the intertoobs back in the day (as the kids no longer say), and it never profited me one jot, or improved the then mutton-headed understanding of Christianity at large among "liberal" bloggers and commenters.  I didn't change Alternet, circumstances beyond my control did.  The culture did that, as culture often does (or politics is just once again making strange bedfellows; but that's culture, too, isn't it?).

This is no fault of Buttigieg's, but in line with Erickson's ignorance is this example, from the same article:

In an April 7 piece for PJ Media, fundamentalist Paula Bolyard accused Buttigieg of promoting a “reductionist” and “truncated” version of Christianity that “leaves out the bits about sin, repentance and judgment.” Bolyard, who describes the South Bend mayor as “an openly gay man who supports the murder of babies on their way out of the birth canal,” is quite selective in her outrage: she is a Trump apologist (although she says she didn’t vote for him in 2016) despite allegations that he had extramarital affairs with a porn star (Stormy Daniels) and a Playboy model (Karen McDougal) and paid them hush money to keep quiet.

But as Bolyard sees it, Trump is “celebrating our nation’s Christian heritage”—while Buttigieg champions “the bigoted policies that the radical, anti-Christian left has achieved over the last few decades.” Bolyard is a tribalist, and what she’s really saying is that she considers Trump part of her tribe, unlike Buttigieg.

What does it profit a person if they argue with the whole world, but lose their own soul in the process?  Yes, Bolyard is a "tribalist," but how far do I go in rejecting her claims about Christianity, without sounding like one myself?  Those "bits about sin, repentance, and judgement" apply to her, too; but she doesn't see that, having rejected the most important part of Christianity, the part Nietzsche despised:  the servant mentality. If you would be first of all, you must be last and servant of all.  Yet if I sit in judgment on her, how are we different, fundamentally?  Am I not just speaking for my tribe, then?  The "strong divisions within Protestant Christianity" are just tribal squabbles if I have to explain the whole subject in those overgeneralized terms (especially if I have to explain what "Protestant Christianity" means). And what's the value of joining that conversation?

The Alternet article goes on to point out:

Former President Barack Obama and his wife, former First Lady Michelle Obama, have a long history of attending church—while Trump has never been especially religious. And yet, the Christian right considers Trump pro-Christian and Obama anti-Christian. The Obamas, like Buttigieg, have embraced a non-fundamentalist form of Christianity. And to the Christian right, that makes them only slightly better than Satanists.

And I would point out, in complete harmony with Buttigieg, that the evangelical leaders who so loudly support Trump, a man about as Christian in his attitude and behavior as a rock (although the rock has the excuse of having no moral obligations.  Describing Trump as "never...especially religious" is too generous by half), do so because they support his politics and want some of his power; not because they think he has anything to do with Jesus of Nazareth (or if they do, they are no more right than the "prosperity gospel" preachers).  I even agree with Chris Hedges, and would point out what he says here explains the support of such people for Donald Trump in concreto:

“There is a strain of deep cruelty—savagery even—fascism, intolerance, within the Christian right that is institutionalized in a way that makes it far more dangerous than the alt-right.”
I don't know about the "more dangerous," but the deep cruelty:  yes, absolutely.  On the other hand, what Tony Perkins is spouting here is pure bullsgeschicte (as we used to say in seminary):

“Scripture warns of wolves in sheep’s clothing coming and talking smooth, trying to be all things to all people,” Perkins, the longtime leader of the Family Research Council, said about the South Bend, Indiana Democratic mayor.

“The reality is he’s advocating for policies that are not in line with the Scripture,” Perkins added, criticizing Buttigieg for supporting abortion rights and same-sex marriage.

But how do I take that on (except here, in my tiny corner) without it sounding like mere tribalism?

Buttigieg is probably better off just asserting his Christianity, rather than setting his up in opposition to Pence's. Cody Fenwick argues Buttigieg is doing it for purely political reasons:  to raise his profile on the national stage, by engaging in a protracted argument with the Vice President.  So it's not about theology or morality at all; just about voter appeal.  Fair enough; Presidential elections are never about whose got the more appealing theological argument, or whose Christianity is more politically appealing (the evangelicals shaped themselves to Trump, not the other way around). In politics religion is more of a marker than a campaign issue.  And politics is about power, not about how you should be a human being. You don't need to hide your religious convictions, but don't make them part of your political appeal.

That way lies tribalism.

Is this the doom of the Democratic party? Nah. Is it the salvation of the party, the sign of finally a Great Awakening of liberal Christianity? Oh, hell no!  As Elizabeth Breunig points out:

Talk of a rising religious left is puzzling in part because there is an already existing religious left — it just lacks the money, numbers and partisan leverage of the religious right.

But the composition of the Democratic Party is changing, which is likely why, even as some Democratic candidates talk God on the trail, Hillary Clinton’s team reportedly chose to run a ‘post-Christian’ campaign in 2016.

But religion simply isn’t the mass mobilizing force on the left that it has been on the right. Republicans have been successful in fashioning a unified identity for right-wing Christian voters regardless of denomination.

“But the religious left has no such unified identity, in part because it has no such unanimously agreed-on priorities. And while the Republican Party has many millions of right-leaning religious voters to draw upon, Democrats face a much more fractured, increasingly nonreligious base,” she said.

And that may be, in some sense, for the best. The religious left is at its most authentic when standing in opposition to earthly power, serving as a prophetic conscience for all those who wield it for ill. Activism and organizing seem much more the natural mode of a religious left than intra-party power playing, and in those small but meaningful ways, the religious left lives on.
I like the reference to the prophets, but not for the reasons most people think.  Amos described himself as no more than a "dresser of sycamore trees."  Ezekiel had visions so strange on the banks of the Chebar we used to joke in seminary about the mushrooms he must have found there.  Imagine what his contemporaries thought.  Hosea married a prostitute and had children, all as performative metaphors of the relationship of Israel to the God of Abraham.  Is this admirable?  Does this get you the best seats in the restaurant, the choicest place at the correspondent's dinners?  Prophets are honored long after death, not with rewards for their prophecies in life.  And I'd go a point beyond Breunig, and argue the prophetic conscience should be levied against all who wield power, period.  One of Jesus' greatest truths, or prophecies, because the two words mean the same thing, was to declare that in the basiliea tou theou the first are last and the last first.  The powerless are the most powerful.  How much activism and organizing can you do in politics around that position?



*Go to that Twitter thread and you'll get the usual trashing of religion I used to see everywhere on the intertoobs: mindless and reactionary. Of course, that's Twitter, where most such people tend to be on-line.  And of course they think they are the world, like all the bloggers and their commenters thought, back in the day.

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