As always here is a great interview with a great intro. This is definitely one of Brian’s ‘great works’, we would recommend picking up a copy. But don’t take our word for it, listen to the interview and here some links:

Nick’s review, Scot McKnights interesting review for Christianity Today

Purchase A New Kind of Christianity here

Purchase The Hopeful Skeptic here

[Download Episode]

Peace…

JC

The Unitarian Universalist Association has a program about standing up in the struggle for justice, for the inherent worth and dignity of all persons, called “Standing on the Side of Love.” Though I am aligned with its aims, I struggle with the title. Joshua’s recent post on inclusion/exclusion helped me to focus the issue that disturbs me about it. It is the dualism captured in the question: Which side are you on?

What does it mean, to stand on the side of love? Does love have a side, opposite something else on the other side? Don’t both sides of a controversy hold claim to godliness, to love, even when each cannot see the validity of the other’s claim?

Sometimes it is clear to us which side love is on, because we hold certain premises in common. We easily agree that heterosexism and racism, for example, are on the other side, the side of not-love. Even so, our tradition of religious humanism and nonviolence informs us that even those opposed to us are included in love, as ‘children of God’ if that is your language. If we fail to extend the side of love to include those on the other side, we place ourselves on the other side, the side of not-love. For love to be love, it cannot have a side.

I tell myself, stop exegeting and just appreciate the intent. Experience it as a sentiment rather than as words to be picked apart. But when I hear “standing on the side of love,” the first image that comes is execution night at the prison in Jackson, Georgia. When you enter the grounds, armed officers are all around. At the gatehouse, one with a rifle stands close to the passenger side of the car and looks in through the windows, while the one with a pistol on his belt approaches the driver’s window. Now you must state which side you are on. You either oppose or support the execution. Based on your choice, you are directed to an area on one side or the other of the narrow roadway, which you may not cross. Believe me when I say that the officers will not be amused if you tell them that you are standing on the side of love.

Which side are you on?

When I went out to stand with the queers and straight allies during the visit of the Westboro Church mob to CDC, I could not get within half a mile of the site before I was approached by a police officer. Police outnumbered the Westboro folks by about three to one, and their job was to make sure that people stayed on their respective sides. As people arrived, the police asked them (when it wasn’t obvious) which side they were on. People were not merely directed, but escorted, across the street, two blocks from the location, so that they could not come within shouting or rock-throwing distance of the opposing side. Once your side is chosen, there is no crossing over.

Which side are you on?

King and Gandhi were on the side of love; Bull Connor and the British Colonial Forces were not. Right? I mean, once your side is chosen, there you are. Oh, if only.

Many of us have had close friends or family members whom we loved, and then learned that they were racist, or heterosexist, or anti-immigrant, or whatever embodies the enemy for us. We cannot deny that we loved those people, the haters, or that (at least according to our religious convictions) they are worthy of love. We may choose to abandon or avoid the person, but we cannot change the reality. Dualistic worldview is simpler, and easier for our ingrained binary way of thinking. Still, our experience, reason and conscience tell us that dualistic worldview is inherently false. No matter how complex you may admit a situation to be, it is never that simple.

Which side are you on?

King and Gandhi were exceptional in their witness, precisely for the reason that they knew and understood this fact. What made their work so prophetic was that they, like Jesus in the Gospel accounts, included the enemy in love. They stood on the side of love, and invited the world not to join them, but to see that they were already joined. As I think of standing on the side of love now, I envision a Möbius strip. Start anywhere, and draw your finger along one surface of the paper to trace the path of one side. You already know what happens. There is no other side. The paper has two sides, and yet they are one.

Which side are you on?

When we stand on the side of love, if we stand still, there is another side, the opposite side, the back. But if we keep moving, as love demands that we do, we find that the side of love covers every side, every curve and corner, every person. It is without limit or end, and that, I think, is the very thing that makes it the side of love — limitless, all-encompassing, eternal and omnipotent Love. And that, I think, is what Jesus meant by, “Go now and do likewise.”

May it be so.

Lynn

In recent conversations with Philip (listen to podcast here), and with others (see AAR 2009 or HBC podcast), Clayton has really begun to push against academic “ivory tower” theology as being too disconnected from the kind of theology that is really necessary or capable of meeting the needs of theology in the age of Google (and hereafter).

He is, in an very profound way, challenging not only the way in which theology gets articulated, but the very institution of which he has been a part for a long time. After all, if you check out Clayton’s CV online, he has close to 10 pages of books, articles, publications, and reviews. While most of these articles have fueled the fires of the institution he now critiques, that he has had a “conversion” seems not only authentic, but very very dangerous for those who find the tower cozy.

Can you imagine the kind of collapse he is really picturing? In our podcast he says, and I paraphrase here, “collapse is happening and the institutions that have long set the parameters for thinking about theology no longer have the credibility or influence they once had on the people doing theology.” And, as he would go on to suggest later (paraphrase), “we’ve got to figure out how theology is done when collapse is coming in the next 15 years.”

The collapse that Clayton is imagining is one which seems pretty akin to the one depicted by Kevin Costner’s The Postman. If not literally, figuratively. (You remember, the one in the lineage of Dances with Wolves and Waterworld in which a principle character, who is a drifter in the world of which he lives, stumbles upon a group of people in search of, or in need of help which they discover he can mediate for their benefit and the benefit of all.) In The Postman, all the institutions which once held together the “United States of America” have fallen. Corruption, division, and chaos have set in and the ancient stories of hope found in theater, community, and literature are now illegal or lost. What is worse, is that with collapse went the postal system; you know, the one regulated system through which people were unified in communication and community over long distances, with authority.

If the collapse that Clayton suggests genuinely takes shape over the course of the next 15 years (he’s mentioned several dates), then, as the song goes, people get ready. If seminaries will continue to lose funding, if publishers continue to struggle with publishing books in print, if learning continues to be revolutionized by the changes in global technology, then we must seriously ask what is next?

What will theology after google really be like?

What is more, we must begin now to understand the need to retell (to ourselves and our communities) the stories of the ones who were wandering folk-healers, local community organizers, and prophets in the ancient ages of institutional chaos and collapse (Clayton would suggest like Jesus or his mother, Mary). We must also question the degree to which our hyper-connectivity is both a blessing and a curse. Finally, we must think critically about the way in which we can nurture a theology of systems which, like the postman, form vibrant and intentional community while fostering a vision for some greater connection to those who are yet elsewhere, but longing for the same kind of hope which we locally experience, practice, and proclaim.

Academic theology, as one who is a part of your number, I stand with Philip Clayton, Tony Jones, and others to say: Beware! You are losing your grasp, your systems are failing, and you need to remember what Marshall McLuhan warned you of in 1964 in his work Understanding Media:

“Education is ideally civil defense against media fallout. Yet Western man has had, so far, no education or equipment for meeting any of the new media on their own terms. Literate man is not only numb and vague in the presence of film or photo, but he intensifies his ineptness by a defensive arrogance…It was in this spirit of building bulldog opacity that the Scholastic philosophers failed to meet the challenge of the printed book in the sixteenth century. The vested interests of acquired knowledge and conventional wisdom have always been bypassed and engulfed by new media.”

Let the revolution continue. Or, as my friend Peter Rollins might suggest, let us join the insurrection!

Joshua

Today in my class on Ethics, we spent a good deal of the time discussing and talking about this particular situation with specific regard to how each person in the class experienced this story; that is, how was it that with our experiences as sources of ethical authority we were processing whether this was a tale of horrific magnitude or just a big misunderstanding. (See Margaret Farley on The Role of Experience in Moral Discernment)

As I processed this more, my thoughts on my Facebook page began to make more sense and I began to draw greater links between the experiences that had shaped my responses and my thoughts there. For instance, on Facebook I wrote:

1. I’m convinced that there should be strict regulation of American non-profits who move to “help” other countries in crisis. Ex. Haiti!

From an international development stand point, my experience with those who said to me, “I just wish the evangelical Americans would stay out of the way and let the people who know what they are doing do it” deeply influenced my response. These comments were most often spoken with regards to development work in Kabul and in the tsunami in Southeast Asia.

In a way, I still find the critique of internationals with regard to American arrogance in action a fair one. In fact, I for one think that most Americans who live abroad need this kind of exposure to how Americans are perceived in these kinds of situations. (This isn’t to say that Americans don’t do an enormous amount of good in the world!)

Then I commented:

2. So, if its not regulation then what is it?

I still think in these situations (regardless of the phase of development or response) that some kind of monitoring needs to happen. In fact, because the opportunity for well-meaning but misinformed action is possibility in many cases, I think the international community needs to do even more.

Seriously, though Paul commented on my blog “if you are going to sin, sin boldly” with regard to doing good in this kind of the situation, the horror is: the Baptist got caught doing this but there are hundreds more children who have already been trafficked to other parts of the world WITHOUT ANYONE KNOWING IT! This is why groups like this I think need to be punished regardless of their intentions. It was illegal.

[As an aside, I also am one who thinks that the situation a few years back with regards to the two young missionaries from America who were captured by the Taliban and then rescued by the US military is an interesting case in ethical religious processing. Was this not the intervention of the US military into the legal system of a country of a different religion for religious reasons? In other words, they were breaking the law and yet we kept them from punishment? But what if a tactical group of Muslims broke into Guantanamo and rescued the people held there? Would they be liberators or terrorists?]

Finally, I commented:

3. At some point, every non-profit has to use donations to pay for overhead, people, and resources to help. It’s an illusion to think otherwise and I don’t trust ones that say 100% goes anywhere!

While Ben was right to point out that there are specific giving campaigns for certain causes, my experience is that non-profits inevitably have to use funds from somewhere to pay for things everywhere.

By this I mean to simply say that someone gave money to pay for their greatest vision for the work and most donors don’t find giving to admin stuff the sexiest thing to give to. Some do, but in my experience, most don’t.

This is why I wonder if most non-profits shouldn’t also be experimenting with some Fourth sector thinking. Or if not this, a stronger consideration with regards to for-profit activities ought to be taken during times of financial difficulty. And lets face it, we are in one of those times.

So, these are just a few more of my reflections on the situation. I must admit, after the conversation today in my class, I’m convinced that there are other classrooms of students who weren’t reflecting on how this situation reminded them of the exploitation of enslaved Africans brought to the Americans or, the sexual exploitation of children in India or, the need for people to know what it is they are doing when they travel internationally to help others (obvious).

I’m sure there were students at others schools praying for these people to be freed, hoping for the truth to be revealed, and yes, even rationalizing the good reasons why some of the parents have said they wanted to give their children up for a better life. Regardless of whether I agree, they think this is right.

The truth is, depending on where you are from, who you’re friends with, and what you’ve experienced in life, what you really think about this (tragic) situation is not borne out of a vacuum nor based on some greater ultimate principal. In fact, I think this situation may just demonstrate again why it is not reasonable to suggest that there is any kind of a universal moral ethic.

Joshua

Old notes about it:

“IT WAS BOUND to happen. The Nick & Josh Podcast scooped the Almighty. Oprah that is. Last Tuesday I recorded a podcast with one of the co-founders of Kiva. And Friday they went into Oprah’s studio to record Tuesday’s Oprah television show. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that they mentioned just how cool The Nick & Josh Podcast was/is.

But besides scooping Oprah, we had a great conversation with Jessica Jackley Flannery of Kiva (co-founder with her husband Matt). If you’re not familiar with Kiva . . . this is a great chance to get to know them and what they’re about. And if you’re already a fan and partner . . . then you can hear Jessica talk about a variety of things including social networking in giving, flattened relational models, the power of women in power, and Kiva’s leveraging of their relationships with big business Silicon Valley giants for their role in micro-loans.

Unfortunately, Nick couldn’t make this podcast and as usually is the case when I fly solo, I struggle to sound coherent and intelligent. He is truly worthy to be Wayne while I am nothing but Garth. But despite my suck-i-ness in “interviewing” . . . I did get to talk to somebody whose going to talk to Oprah . . . and that’s got to count for something right?”

Check it out and enjoy if you never heard the podcast or of Kiva!

JC

[Download Episode]

Here is the creed:

We believe in the one High God, who out of love created the beautiful world and everything good in it. He created Man and wanted Man to be happy in the world. God loves the world and every nation and tribe on the Earth. We have known this High God in darkness, and now we know Him in the light. God promised in the book of His word, the Bible, that He would save the world and all the nations and tribes.

We believe that all our sins are forgiven through Him. All who have faith in Him must be sorry for their sins, be baptised in the Holy Spirit of God, live the rules of love and share the bread together in love, to announce the Good News to others until Jesus comes again. We are waiting for Him. He is alive. He lives. This we believe. Amen.

I wonder what it would look like if every tribal local culture sought passionately to practice creedal articulation this way? In many ways I wonder if this isn’t the legacy of this creed; namely that it says that every culture is called to inhahbit the creed locally.

Yet I wonder also, would this undermine the universality of the creed such that its connection through time is lost? Will this just lead to a further segmentalization of the church? Does this matter if faith is more contextual than universal if this contextuality does not harm?

Anyway, a beautiful thing eh?

JC

Sallie McFague: God’s Body, Humanity’s Home and Responsibility

Sallie McFague’s account of God’s relationship to the world presents a more effective stimulus to ecologically responsible behavior than that of Kathryn Tanner. McFague’s argument is more stimulating because it not only locates the impetus for this human behavior in an understanding of “the world as God’s body,” but also because Tanner fails to demonstrate the necessity for such activity in her understanding of God’s plan for the world.

In the first, McFague’s response comes as more stimulating because she locates the impetus for such ecological responsibility in the shared experience of the “world as God’s body” (110). Specifically, McFague’s understanding challenges and calls disciples of Jesus to re-imagine the doctrine of creation not as merely God’s acting upon the world, but as God “sharing” divine power that all creation may flourish (114). In McFague’s articulation, not only does God meet with humanity in the “intrinsic and intimate” details of life, but in this mess is where we are at home and where humanity can be most active (102). In this way, with this vision of home, a rooted humanity is able to bear witness to the goodness and sustainability of creation in God.

On other hand, Tanner seems to leave the question of ecological responsibility somewhat untouched; rather, she places the question of sustainability and ultimate justice on God. Although one might consider her brief discussion of human agency as providing some stimulus towards action by humans, her conclusion that, “God [does not] need creatures of any particular sort to achieve God’s ends within the world,” seems to paint the picture of a plan that will be inacted without human involvement(129). This image of God not only fails to stimulate readers to engage with matters of ecological responsibility, but also adds fuel to the fires of ideologies which already fail to recognize the responsibility and interconnectedness of humans in caring for creation.

While both McFague and Tanner are concerned with God’s relationship to the world, McFague’s understanding of the “world as God’s body” provides a more stimulating call to ecological responsibility. This stimuli is most experienced when an empowered humanity wake up to their shared responsibility for creation as where they are most authentically at home.

Thoughts? Is McFague’s metaphor as helpful for you?

Joshua