Half of the people are stoned
And the other half are waiting for the next
Election
Half the people are drowned
And the other half are swimming in the
Wrong direction
They call it
Glorious Living
So I’m reading one of Richard Rorty’s last books, and he starts his discussion of pragmatism as a force against authoritarianism with a discussion of “sin,” which he presents from the hoary perspective of God as Cosmic Thunderer, imposing ethics on humanity lest they get out of line and face eternal damnation. Now, he doesn’t do this from a particular Christian point of view (I grew up in a fairly conservative Christian Presbyterian church, and we weren’t that fierce on “damnation.”); he ascribes this to “religion” in general, and roots the critique of it generally in the enlightenment. And he doesn’t do this specifically, but again, very generally.
Let me contrast that with Gadamer’s Vahrheit und Method. I pulled that off the shelf more recently and it fell open to a passage tracing an issue of epistemology (the subject of the book) through Kant to Fichte, to a third philosopher (whose name now escapes me), as he carefully wove a thread of the development of an idea from the 18th century to the 20th. No vague and glittering generalities, but a careful development of a thought.
But religion, in Anglo-American philosophical circles, is often treated as vaguely and generally as possible. Nothing Rorty says about sin applies at all to Judaism, in no small part because ethics in Judaism is based on the Law of Moses (an attitude most truly conservative Christians regard as “legalistic,” unless it suits them to club somebody with the “law.”), and the covenant with Abraham. The Christian concept of sin is not the Jewish one, and it’s hardly unitary and uniform in Christianity. Kierkegaard’s 19th century Danish Lutheran ideas about sin would be foreign to many Christians today, myself included. But Rorty blithely assumes one size fits all, and further assumes “sin” is a universal religious concept, and is universally a monad: windowless, unchanging, and fundamental.
Granted, if you read those church signs, you might think he has a point; at least about the character of sin in American Christianity. It does seem to require an ethic where all “right” (i.e., “correct”) behavior must be guided by an authority beyond us, and to whom we must answer. But isn’t that the character of the Pharisees and the “religious authorities” in the Gospels, who are constantly in opposition to the person and the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth?
Rorty’s really not enough of a student of religion, or even philosophy of religion, to even comment on the subject. Derrida was a Jew by birth (he was not observant), but he wrote trenchantly and intelligently about religion in the Western world, and even about Kierkegaard. It can, in other words, be done. Rorty just never did it. But Rorty’s caricature of religion is a not inapt starting point for this conversation.* Which is that these church signs are a similar kind of caricature of Christianity and Christian soteriology.
I’ve never been a fan of the atonement theory (“Jesus died for your sins “), in no small part because, as one of my seminary professors said, it’s cosmic child abuse. The whole thing makes no sense: in order to appease God’s wrath (OT), there must be a blood sacrifice (a complete misreading of sacrifice in OT), but the only sacrifice big enough is…God? (If we hold true the Trinity) That leads almost immediately to the OT/NT dichotomy (angry God/loving God), and the “superiority” of Xianity over Judaism (hardly the only source). But you can pull that out without destroying the entire edifice of Xianity.
Let me try to make my point (this is just a blog, after all, and I’m not a philosopher trained in German scholarship) by quoting
myself from 18 years ago (!):
And right after that, in Luke 10, Jesus sends out 72 disciples, and they come back rejoicing at what occurred, at what happened simply by proclaiming the Kingdom of God. And that's all they had to do, and that's all Jesus wanted them to do. And he didn't try to start a movement with them, or a group,or an ekklesia. In fact, he didn't tell them to come back for more instruction; he simply rejoiced in their happiness and told them to keep it up, that good things were coming of it already, universally good things. "I saw Satan fall, like lightning from heaven....Nevertheless, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but that your names are enrolled in heaven." (Luke 10:18, 20) All from saying the Kingdom of God is at hand, and caring for the people nobody cared for.
And those people were already part of a community: they were already the children of Abraham, the ones the prophets said Israel had forgotten to care for once before, and so Babylon came knocking on Jerusalem's gates. How quickly and easily we forget; and yet how simple the solution Jesus offers. And it is not the political solution some may have expected. He does not come as the Messiah who will re-establish the political throne of Israel.
Jesus’ message to his followers is to tell them to first seek the kingdom of God. But he never gives them a map so they can find it. And he doesn’t tell them to teach an ethic based on atonement and “getting right with God.” A bit premature, I grant you, but atonement is based on Paul, whose only report on the life of Jesus of Nazareth is the institution of the last supper.Paul emphasizes ethical living because his Gentiles weren’t raised in the law of Moses. Even Paul’s ethic is not “Live right or die!” That call comes much later on, with Augustine and Anselm (around 300 years after Paul and Jesus, that is).
All Jesus says to his followers is to go proclaim the basileia tou theou. The focus of Jesus’ ministry was not on the bye and bye, but on the here and now. Even the sheep and goats parable is about how we treated others, not whether we followed all the rules. Sin, in most Christian practice, is about separating “us” from “them.” Matthew’s parable dissolves such dichotomies.
“Whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me.” And the basileia tou theou is in the here and now. Proclaim it, Jesus says; not “tell people they can earn it if they follow this rule book I’ve handed out to you.”
Is there a price of admission? Yes: love your neighbor as yourself.” “Anyone who is not against you, is with you.” “Take care of each other..” “Whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me.” I guess that last one involves a cosmic authority, but it actually works in the opposite direction. It makes us all the same; erases distinctions we like to make between “us” and “them.” More importantly, it puts the focus on them. It’s not about what I need (which is the basis of Aristotle’s ethics), and focuses on what they need. The emphasis is on how to make life better for everyone, not on how to make life better for me.
Which is why I agree with Patricia Richardson: by their signs (be glad I spared you a discussion on signification), these churches are heading in the wrong direction.
*It’s Juneteenth as I write; and as I came
across a post of a speech by Dr. King from 1967. He underlines my point about Rorty’s wild swing and dramatic miss.
Now, I’ll be the first one to say that there is real need for a lot of heart changing in our country. And I believe in changing the heart. I preach about it. I believe in the need for conversion, in many instances, and regeneration, to use theological terms. And I would be the first to say that if the race problem in America is to be solved, the white person must treat the Negro right, not merely because the law says it, but because it’s natural. Because it’s right. And because the Negro is his brother.
And so I realize that if we are to have a truly integrated society, men and women will have to rise to the majestic heights of being obedient to the unenforceable.
But after saying this, let me say another thing: Although it may be true that morality cannot be legislated, behavior can be regulated. Even though it may be true that the law cannot change the heart, it can restrain the harvest. Even though it may be true that the law cannot make a man love me, it can restrain him from lynching me, and I think that’s pretty important also.
"Being obedient to the unenforceable” is the closest King comes to Rorty’s description of sin as the sign we must obey an outside authority in order to be ethical. King posits that authority in the law, but recognizes a more fundamental authority in the individual will, and in the human heart. I’m not sure Rorty’s characterization wasn’t a caricature in the Age of the Enlightenment; but it certainly is today.
