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Justice

“How could our Churches be a center of resistance to empire?”

I asked this question of a friend yesterday, and, as usual, found his answer to be both wise and challenging.

“Liturgy.”

He then went on to tell me the story of a Christian community he had recently been reading about. After World War II a German church found itself under a new regime, the USSR. Their freedoms were curtailed, and they were witness to shocking injustice and oppression.

In response they met as a community, performed the liturgy, sang treasured hymns, and engaged in public prayer as an act of resistance.

This seems counterintuitive, but such is the nature of the kingdom of God.

By continuing to worship, and sing, and pray, they were proclaiming that history is ultimately in the hands of God not empire, and that Jesus is Lord even when the people of God appear weak and powerless.

They were displaying trust in a God who could bring freedom and redemption into a situation they could not change by their own strength, and pointing their worship and faithfulness towards a Power higher than the powers who demanded their allegiance.

Also, by coming together and practicing the liturgy they were being shaped into a community other than the community of the empire. Rejecting the ways of life that were in fact counter to humanity and right worship, they embodied a coming day of reconciliation, trust, support, and justice. This involved much suffering for the community, but that too is the way of the Kingdom.

Critique of empire is necessary I think, we need eyes to see and ears to hear what is truly going on around us, and the ways in which we are complicit in unjust systems of power.

But ultimately the solution is not found in human striving, it is found in the in-breaking kingdom of God, and in the ways in which God acts through a community that is trying to live a different sort of life that is shaped by the story of Cross and Resurrection.

The Church, in its best moments, sings songs that crumble empires.

This week strict immigration laws, which had been passed in Arizona and Alabama, were challenged before the Supreme Court.

From FOX News to NPR, discussion turned to our nation’s immigration policy, and talking heads were brought in to tout either the necessity of such bills, or the need for comprehensive immigration reform.

While arguing about which political party has the better plan for dealing with immigration, it seemed both sides of the debate continually overlooked an important but uncomfortable fact.

Illegal immigrants are not the root cause of the problem, we are.

Our personal and national economies are dependent on the artificially cheap prices enabled by our exploitation of cheap immigrant labor.

To talk about immigration policy without addressing that elephant in the room is an exercise in missing the point.

We are perfectly happy to benefit from the availability of cheap houses built by illegal labor, artificially affordable food harvested by undocumented workers, and inexpensive meat processed and packaged by those who have snuck across our borders.

Illegal immigrants come here because, on one level, we want them to. We want them to and we provide them the employment opportunities because our system depends on exploiting immigrant labor, much like it depends on exploiting the cheap foreign labor that sews our clothes and builds our electronic devices.

But we don’t like to talk about it, because we are all complicit, and because acknowledging this dark underside to our “free” market would demand we do something besides vote for one of two slightly differentiated political parties – it would demand we live differently.

Of course when the housing market crashes, when the economy struggles, we find it easier to do without the labor of illegal immigrants and use them instead as a convenient scapegoat. We say that they are taking all our jobs, while simultaneously (and paradoxically) calling them lazy drains on our society. We direct our anger and fear towards the least of these, exploiting them politically and sociologically as we have exploited them economically.

With one hand we offer them employment and hope for a better life, while with the other we round them up as criminals and demonize them.

Until the root injustices of that system are challenged, talk of stricter laws or immigration reform seems to me akin to painting the siding of a building with a rotting foundation.

“The liturgy of consumption births in us a desire for a way of life that is destructive to creation itself; moreover, it births in us a desire for a way of life that we can’t feasibly extend to others, creating a system of privilege and exploitation.” – Jamie Smith, Desiring the Kingdom, pg. 101.

I think it might be worth clarifying that I have don’t mean to suggest that media and entertainment are always and inherently oppressive. I too enjoy my share of television programs – and if you saw me on a day when a new Doctor Who episode airs you might say that ‘enjoy’ is an understatement.

My concern is more with how we use entertainment, and the specific roles that it has come to play in society.

In particular I am concerned because of how easily entertainment media,

1. Legitimates the narrative of empire: From the rarely challenged assumption that violence is just if done by the “good guys” of a film or TV show, to the consumerist utopia laid out in our profiles of the rich and famous (from ET to Cribs) – media often serves to promote the exceptionalism that says the empire is (of course!) what everyone would want if they were educated/successful/pious/etc.

2. Provides the illusion that we are theologically, politically, or socially engaged: TV and social media are mostly unable to sustain such serious dialogue, both rely too heavily on image, brevity, and the sense of constantly being entertained. They have other uses, good uses even, but I think that we often deceive ourselves into thinking we are engaged just because we posted a link, watched a debate, or argued with someone online. Such actions allow us to imagine we’ve done something without demanding much in the way of critical thought or real sacrifice.

3. Numbs us to our own participation in the injustices of empire: The way that media so often glorifies war and consumerism serves to justify them with an emotional appeal that bypasses thought or debate. We might not actively kill, exploit, invade, or exclude, but others are doing so on our behalf and media is often used as a way to justify such actions so we can absolve ourselves from the difficult ethical dilemma of our own proxy participation in that system.

Again, I’m not suggesting that media or entertainment are inherently tools of empire, simply that they are easy to twist into such a use, and often are. In much the same way that food or sex can be used in life giving ways or destructive (and escapist) ways – so can entertainment.

Yes, I said I wouldn’t be posting on Tuesdays anymore, but I came across some brilliant videos – that were not exactly on topic with my current series – and wanted to take this opportunity to share them with you.

The first features John Dickson discussing the fascinating and beautiful story of Christian charity in the ancient world.


The next clips return us to the conversation about hermeneutics, evolution, and how we interpret Genesis 1-3.

John Walton and Tremper Longman, two of the top Old Testament scholars in Evangelicalism, take turns explaining how they approach these issues, and then do some Q and A. If you can make the time, I could hardly think of a better resource for evangelicals wrestling with these difficult questions.

(HT: Louis McBride)

Every 20 seconds, a child dies from a water-related disease. Diarrhea kills more young children than AIDS, malaria and measles combined.

More people die from unsafe water than from all forms of violence, including war.

This is not right.

And the consequences of such desperate situations haunt our nation, from the war-torn streets of the Middle East to the threat of terrorist attacks on American soil.

The abject poverty of over a billion people is an unspeakable injustice, and according to Nuru founder Jake Harriman it is also the driving force behind terrorism.

As we continue to talk of new wars, and as news reaches us of a horrible massacre in an occupied nation, it might be worth reading this article by Jake Harriman and asking, “are we going about the ‘war on terror’ utterly backwards?”

Extreme poverty is the greatest humanitarian crisis of our time and a fundamental contributing factor to 21st century terrorism and insurgency. I’ve discovered that it is controversial to make this claim, so don’t take my word for it. Brilliant people of our time have also made this connection, and are attempting to shake our generation from its slumber and catalyze global action in the fight against extreme poverty. Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Archbishop Desmond Tutu said, “You can never win a war against terror as long as there are conditions in the world that make people desperate — poverty, disease, ignorance.” Former U.S. Secretary of State General Colin Powell stated, “We can’t just stop with a single terrorist or a single terrorist organization; we have to go and root out the whole system. We have to go after poverty.”

…Desperate situations cause people to commit desperate acts. Most of the time people commit these acts not out of some misplaced hatred for the West, but out of love for their five-year-old son and three-year-old daughter at home who are starving to death. It is love that compels a father to say yes to the extremist that shows up at his hut, promising food and education for his children if he will only sacrifice his life by attacking people he knows nothing about, living across the ocean. Think about it. What would you do if your child hadn’t eaten in days, or if your daughter had to walk 5 hours every day to find clean water – only to be raped on the way there? How far would you go in a world where you couldn’t meet the basic needs of those you hold dearest to you?

Learn more at nuruinternational.org, 20liters.orgone.org, and onedayswages.org

I’m writing at Deeper Story today, and coming about as close to commenting on politics as I’m going to get this year.

Below is an excerpt, and you can read the rest here.

Grace and peace.

“there is something about today’s partisan political environment that leads to the assumption that if you think the government ought to care for the poor you are automatically in favor of “big government” and have faith in the bureaucracy.

But I’m not, and I don’t. I just think it’s, for the time being, the lesser of two evils.

The government might not be an ideal mechanism for caring for the poor, but it’s far better than the poor not being cared for at all.

Usually when these discussions come up with friends or family the response I hear is that it should be the role of the church to care for the poor. And to be honest, I completely agree.

I’d much prefer that the church took the lead in alleviating poverty and caring for the marginalized and oppressed. I believe strongly that is central to the mission of the church, a key element of what it means to enact our prayer “Your kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven.”…

…My concern is that I don’t see that happening, at least not on the scale it would need to.”

Today’s post is by blogger extrodinare Nish Weiseth. Nish blogs at The Outdoor Wife, and is the founder of A Deeper Story, which she was kind enough to invite me to join. Today she shares her heart about the plight of women in the Church and around the world.

______________________

My dear brothers,

There are a few things I want to get off my chest. Things that have been slowly building for a while now… I’ve waited, thought, and prayed for the right time to finally open up & talk with you. I’m much better at writing than I am at speaking, so this seems to be the best avenue.

I come to you with open hands & a humble heart. I hope you’ll receive me the same way, as your sister.

My brothers, I’m tired.

I’m tired of being pushed aside and pushed down. I’m tired of hearing the lie that my contributions and opinions aren’t strong enough or deeply rooted in Scripture enough, simply because I’m a woman. I’m tired of those lies coming from you. I study Scripture just like you. I read the commentaries and I read primary documents and I pray and seek counsel, just like you. I’m quite capable of theological discussion. Just because I come to a different conclusion, doesn’t mean I’m “theologically unsound” or “unbiblical.” Please stop calling me that.

My brothers, I’m tired.

I’m tired of the comments that so easily roll off your tongue. I’m frustrated at the jokes you make at our expense. The comments aren’t kind to the heart and the jokes aren’t funny. Could you stop? It’s hurtful. It’s damaging. Us women, we’re hard enough on ourselves, we don’t need it from you, too.

My brothers, I’m tired.

I’m tired of constantly feeling like I need to stand up for myself and my sisters because of our gender. If we call out something, or someone, that we don’t agree with (after much prayer and study), don’t brush us off and just call us “bitter.” We’re not bitter. We’re justified. And, sometimes, we’re even RIGHT. My sisters and I, we are intellectuals, theologians, caregivers, wives, mothers, daughters, revolutionaries & image-bearers. We can bring forth life & sustain it. My brothers, we are capable of a great many things. Please don’t write us off so quickly.

My brothers, I’m tired.

I’m tired of the same old arguments. Can a woman lead in church, or no? Can she preach, or not? Can she be an elder, or not? Can she work, or should she stay home? Is it okay to “let herself go?” So often, you boldly shout your opinions from the rooftops on any one of these subjects, and can I tell you? Those conversations mean NOTHING to a vast majority of women around the world.

Carolyn Custis James, in her book “Half the Church” wrote the following:

Our cloistered discussions about God’s purposes for women and the resulting infighting that ensues among us leave women elsewhere in the world scratching their heads. Blinded by the insulation of prosperity, we are at risk of transmitting a message as irrelevant and unworkable as Marie Antoinette’s solution for the starving masses: “Let them eat cake!” – a message that when sanctioned as “biblical” is cruelly beyond the reach of those with less.

Where is your loud voice for these women? Why don’t you ever direct your discussions of gender to the undeniable injustices that are happening to women around the world, every minute of every day?

Why are you not angry about women being sold into prostitution & slavery? The women forced to give up their children? The women dying of hunger & disease? The women who are being sought out and killed because they want an education? The women who are stoned and burned to protect a family’s “honor?”

I don’t mean to get all “what-would-Jesus-do” on you, but really… what would He do? What would HE speak out against first? My brothers, I humbly submit that sometimes, your arguments are strongly misplaced.

My brothers, I’m tired.

I’m tired of standing so alone. So few of you stand with us on issues of women’s rights around the world, on equality, on poverty. My brothers, we need your voices. We need to be united on the issues that affect the least of these. We need to be united on the issues that affect women’s access to education. We need to be united on the issues of violence against women around the globe.

My brothers, we need to be united. Period. 

The more you marginalize us in small ways, the bigger the chasm grows between us. Our effectiveness (and yours) decreases exponentially. To tackle the problems that are closest to the heart of Christ, we need each other. We can’t do this on our own, on opposing sides.

This is my plea.

This is my invitation.

Stop drawing lines in the sand. Instead, lets meet in the middle and do great things together. 

My brothers, I’m ready to change the world.

But, I need you. And, you need me.

Shall we find a new way, together?

Yours,

Nish 

______________________

Nish Weiseth is the blogger behind The Outdoor Wife, founder and editor of A Deeper Story, and a World Vision blogger & poverty advocate. She loves wine, cooking and old school hip-hop. She hates Broadway show tunes. She and her husband live in Salt Lake City with their two-year-old son.

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