the parish

Canadians aren't Saved, or Adam and Eve aren't Evangelical

What kind of Christian are you? Believe it or not, how you answer the Adam and Eve question is now considered by some to be an issue of your evangelical-ness. This will come as no surprise to those of you who are familiar with fundamentalist declarations emerging from allegedly evangelical mouths, but for those of you who don't think Adam and Eve had children who promptly incested it up to create the next generation, well, you might be surprised to find yourself outside the camp. 

The normally accurate NPR ran a story that in the words of one friend is further proof that the MSM doesn't understand religious categories. Clearly, Ms. Hagerty, the author, also fails to understand international boundaries. That's not all she gets wrong, though, beginning with which Genesis account Americans believe. According to the story, 4 in 10 Americans believe the Genesis 2 account of creation. As someone who teaches mythology and comparative religion, and who has taught Bible, I assure you 4 in 10 Americans don't know the difference between the two creation accounts in the Bible. (Four in ten Christians don't know the difference because 8 in 10 Christians haven't even bothered to read the entire Bible.) The Americans I talk to believe a conflated version of both, and this is made worse by "apologists" insisting against all good linguistic sense that Gen. 2 actually expands upon Gen. 1. Horseshit. They're competing narratives.

Here comes the evangelical mishmash, though, as Hagerty intends to explain the importance of the primordial couple: "It's a central tenet for much of conservative Christianity, from evangelicals to confessional churches such as the Christian Reformed Church."

First, if you're going to start with a "who it's important to" angle, maybe start with fundamentalists, because it's damned important to them, and not with evangelicals. Second, since when are all evangelicals "conservative," and what does conservative mean here? And if you're going to end with "confessional churches," why do you pick CRC? Pretty sure Lutheran and Presbyterian are better known, but that's a nitpick. Since when are evangelicals and confessing Christians on opposite ends of a continuum? Can't Reformed, Lutheran, and Southern Baptist be evangelical? Are the terms mutually exclusive? (Yes, friends, I'm counting the SBC as a confessional church. As long as they disfellowship churches for going against the Baptist Faith & Message, they're confessional. Get over it.) 

Time to make it worse:

But now some conservative scholars are saying publicly that they can no longer believe the Genesis account. Asked how likely it is that we all descended from Adam and Eve, Dennis Venema, a biologist at Trinity Western University, replies: "That would be against all the genomic evidence that we've assembled over the last 20 years, so not likely at all."

What kind of scholars? Oh, biologists. Shit, I thought you meant Bible scholars. Ok, so a Canadian biologist is publicly questioning the existence of a real Adam and Eve, and this is news for American evangelicals? Everyone knows Canadians aren't really saved, not in the American fundangelical sense. And what does it mean that he's conservative? I think Canadian conservatives are different than American evangelical conservatives? Did Ms. Hagerty not know about the border between the U.S. and Canada? It makes a theological as well as a political difference, honest. 

Hagerty does toss in one American "evangelical," but he taught at Calvin College, so does that make him confessional? John Schneider, professor of theology, said: " There was no historical Adam and Eve, no serpent, no apple, no fall that toppled man from a state of innocence." I think most people know that. Really, I do. Anyone who thinks about it, anyway. I know some Christian traditions are committed to it, but it's an untenable position, and not just because of the incest. But wait, scary science always brings out the Defenders of "Truth." 

The world famous apologist Fazale Rana (who the fuck is he? she?) has an opinion:

"From my viewpoint, a historical Adam and Eve is absolutely central to the truth claims of the Christian faith," says Fazale Rana, vice president of Reasons To Believe, an evangelical think tank that questions evolution.

A cursory examination of the website for Reasons to Believe will quickly inform you that we're not dealing with evangelicals here. Nope. Fundamentalists for sure. I'll just say it: creationist equals fundamentalist. Sorry. It's true. But there is a name we know...

Al Mohler! Fuck yeah! What's he going to say this time? "Without Adam, the work of Christ makes no sense whatsoever in Paul's description of the Gospel, which is the classic description of the Gospel we have in the New Testament," Mohler says.

Sigh. Without Homer Simpson, our understanding of how delicious donuts can be makes no sense. A metaphor, allegory, or analogy is still theologically useful, even without an historical referent. Why is that so damn difficult to grasp? And since when is Paul's description of the Gospel the "classic" description? What the hell does that even mean? Is James's not classic enough? Peter is out too? And if Paul's description is classic, did you mean Paul's or the Pauline school's? This is ridiculous oversimplification from someone who ought to know better.

The last three paragraphs are worth quoting in their entirety:

"This stuff is unavoidable," says Dan Harlow at Calvin College. "Evangelicals have to either face up to it or they have to stick their head in the sand. And if they do that, they will lose whatever intellectual currency or respectability they have."

"If so, that's simply the price we'll have to pay," says Southern Baptist seminary's Albert Mohler. "The moment you say 'We have to abandon this theology in order to have the respect of the world,' you end up with neither biblical orthodoxy nor the respect of the world."

Mohler and others say if other Protestants want to accommodate science, fine. But they shouldn't be surprised if their faith unravels.

It's not the respect of the world, you twit. It's believing things that are congruous with what science and math and history tell us about the world. If you're ignoring science and truth simply to keep alive a very narrow version of a faith, you're a fool. Christians everywhere, including the sciences, have found ways to integrate their faith with what science tells us about the world. Sorry, I'm not kicking biologists out of colleges so we can keep the primordial incestuous family alive. It's just...well, I was going to say silly, but this seems more egregious than that.

A Rose by Any Name Would Smell as Kerygmatic, or How to Label Christians

What kind of Christian are you? Evangelical? Well, see, that really means literalist or fundamentalist these days. How 'bout progressive? That just means liberal. Emergent? Ha! Good luck with that one. After Tony Jones and his band of merry marketers finished sucking the blood out of that label (sorry, leaf logo), all of Christendom is trying to figure out what to call people who want to be Christians but don't want to be douches, or even lumped in with the douches. This topic has made its way around techno-Christendom of late, and I've even weighed in, mainly in response to a post on Tripp Fuller's site. I actually agreed with Tony that evangelical is only useful for politically and theologically conservative Christians; moderate to liberal evangelicals will need to find a new word. My agreement, it seems, ends there, especially in light of Tony's new post.

Dr. Jones (that's what his new book jacket says, so I'm going with it, even though most folks don't put their credentials in front of their names on book jackets...) has chosen five new labels to replace "progressive." He warns Christians that they can use labels like Christ-follower if they like, but they should be aware that journalists will choose a label for them beyond that quaint nomenclature.

Here's why I get to weigh in. I'm a journalist. I write about religion, among other things. Unlike most journalists, I have a degree in Biblical Studies and a graduate degree in Theology. That means I understand the language and labels a shad better than my colleagues. Jones is right that we will refer to you crazy Jesus lovers with labels. The old ones are Catholic, mainline, evangelical, liberal, and fundamentalist. There are others, but those cover a pretty good spectrum. Believe it or not, good journalism doesn't use fundamentalist unless the topic is reactionary Christianity ca. 1930. We try to be careful with labels. That's why it's critically important to choose the correct label. That was the beauty of emergent, until Jones and his ilk made it Emergent, and it's painfully ironic that he is now calling for the masses to come up with a new name. Perhaps he sees a new book deal in the future. Alas, not with these labels...

Jones has chosen a top 5 (and by top I mean he likes them, not that they are good ideas).

• Open Christian
• Trinitarian Christian
• Kerygmatic Christian
• Prophetic Christian
• Incarnational Christian

Um. Wow. As a journalist, I feel compelled to ask, once a label like that is offered, "what the fuck are you talking about?" Labels are supposed to help clarify who a person is and what his tribe believes. Let's go through the list and see how well each candidate succeeds.

Open? As in Open Theism? As in open to LGBT persons? As in open to correction? All this label does is demand follow-up questions. And let's assume that it's a theological category (even though I don't think it is), it would only speak to a narrow set of theological conclusions about God's nature, knowledge, and activity, not a believer's politics, values, or habits.

Trinitarian. The worst of the list in terms of a vague redundancy. Did you mean Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, Anabaptist, Methodist? You haven't narrowed anything down, except to exclude a few Black, Oneness, and Apostolic churches. I might as well call you an historically orthodox Christian.

Kerygmatic. The worst in terms of the "what the fuck does that mean" effect. Kerygma. Greek. Proclamation. Yeah, that's helpful. We're talking about journalists here, not your nerdy profs from grad school. The journalists write for the public, and as a rule, they know less than journalists. Try to avoid ancient languages when "clarifying" issues.

Prophetic. Sigh. Really? How is this helpful? The vaguest of the vague. Pentecostal? IHOP? Charismatic? Jewish? Messianic Jew? Given to annoying and tear-filled jeremiads? Making up shit you hear "God" say? Living eschatologically? Bitching about capitalism? Wearing a robe and Birkenstocks? Joining the local food co-op? This could mean nearly anything, except "I love whores and booze."

Incarnational. I thought about being incarnational, but then I decided I disliked my body, so only my spirit is Christian now. Ok, fair enough. This could actually mean someone who thinks it's important to live where she ministers. That would actually be refreshing, but again, Catholics have been doing this for 1800 years. How are you clarifying anything?

It's time for new words, I agree, but this top 5 list reeks of over-theologizing. Labels ought to be simple, and not associated with current movements/definitions is really helpful too. (Too bad you roundly fucked emergent, eh? An elegant, simple, little word sacrificed on the altar of Mammon. There is justice here, though. Jones's new book is about emergent ecclesiology...crickets...silence...awkward...can I get a rim shot?)

Rob Bell to Appear in N.D. Wilson's New Book, or Why Children's Fiction isn't Good Theology

N.D. Wilson writes children's books. I'm going to read them, because they sound fascinating, and I still contend that children's books and YA fiction have better stories than books for grown-ups, as a rule, especially when tossing in that loathsome category called literary fiction. That makes what I'm about to do more painful for me. He also wrote a parody that I thoroughly enjoyed many years ago. I'd just written a series of satire pieces for The Door about Harry Potter and Left Behind, so I was reading quite a bit of satire and parody in those days. His book was amusing. He's clearly incredibly bright. Which makes what I'm about to do even more painful for me.

I'd like to say up front that it's a good thing he writes children's books; that's a good genre for him if his understanding of God as articulated in a recent Books & Culture piece is any indication of his theological abilities. Unfortunately, the whole article isn't available online, but you'll appreciate the snark from the enumerated list provided in the excerpt. That is, I'm afraid, the high point of an article about Rob Bell's Love Wins, an article that continues for much too long. Let me say that I completely agree that Rob Bell is less than forthcoming about what he believes, but, unlike N.D. Wilson, I'm pretty sure it's because Bell has the humility to recognize that he's discussing a topic about which there is much room for disagreement, and because Bell is a pastor first (a point Wilson acknowledges with commendable grace in the piece). 

Wilson goes on to criticize Bell for failing to "plant his feet when he thinks," a criticism that is too easy, too vague, and clearly unfair if Bell's corpus is considered as a whole. Wilson, a product of an education in the Classics, writes like a comfortable Calvinist or a Catholic in the Augustinian or Thomist tradition. It's difficult to assess where exactly he comes down on his theology, which is a shad ironic given his critique of Bell's ambiguities about hell. 

He doesn't like that Bell allies himself with people who have been put off by presentations of the Gospel that made them uncomfortable, and then, without a trace of irony, he writes:

"When men pick up stones or spears or guns or machetes, when Nero's pulse quickened (when Herod's pulse quickened), their reactions were natural for fallen men when encountering the Truth."

The most charitable thing I can think to say at this point is that we have no access to this Person, so it's reasonable that we not be too quick to assert shit that can't be known. The next most charitable thing I can say is that Wilson seems to have skipped the 20th century when reading theology; he clearly missed Barth. How does he feel so comfortable jumping from Jesus as Truth to propositions about hell as Truth? That seems a huge step, or perhaps it's better to say he's made a huge leap by skipping over inconvenient segues from one point to another. This sounds like Augustinian arrogance, frankly, so I'm leaning Catholic at this point, but then he drops this turd:

Bell and I could talk about God's story and what we think He is doing. We might agree or disagree, but first we would need to ally ourselves to Christ, absolutely and totally. What He is for, we are for. He is the transcendent standard of goodness and there can be no other. If Gandhi is in Hell, we will say "Amen" and know that it was just. If Gandhi received grace we will say "Amen" and know that it was merciful.

Cool-shaming is a major player in all evangelical discussions of Hell and evil (along with any social hot-button issues). But our focus can't be cultural acceptance or sneers or growing congregations. We should strive to love what Christ loves and loathe what Christ loathes. We must think what He thinks, and peer pressure be damned (not purgated).

Is He anti-gay? Is He anti-science? Does He think that the earth is the center of the universe and all the planets and stars go through drunken epicycles to lap us? Then so do I. (He would know, after all.) Does He think Darwin is an idiot or a prophet? Does His story include creatures meant for damnation till the end? Know that He is good and can do no evil. If that's His story, then there is no better story (whether we understand right now or not). And there is no other Jesus for us to turn to...

I'm out of charitable things to say, except to remind you that this is an otherwise intelligent man. This is horseshit. Wilson will be an excellent children's book writer because he writes theology with the same annoying naiveté that parents use when telling their children to trust a cop. Only later, when the Haitian child is a man, and the cop's nightstick is up his ass in a bathroom in NYC, does he wonder why his parents lied to him. Let's just go through this chronologically:

• First, how can we be sure what Christ is for? It requires an interpretive tradition, and Wilson's seems a hodgepodge of Calvin and Augustine; it certainly smacks of the arrogance and naiveté of the former.
• If He is the transcendent standard of goodness, why the hell do churches worldwide ignore Him? I'm hoping that Wilson is a pacifist, because Jesus clearly was, and if he's the standard, Wilson has just obligated himself to that road. That issue aside, how does one access this transcendent information? Wilson writes with the emotional appeal of a storyteller but his thinking is muddy as hell—another irony, inasmuch as he's critiquing Bell's thinking here. It's clear who the better thinker is.
• If Gandhi is in hell and God sent him there, you're a fool for worshipping this God. No man in the 20th century better emulated the ethic of Jesus, and since He's our transcendent standard of goodness...yeah, exactly. Only in Christianity as explained by Wilson and his theological heroes does behavior not matter. Wilson needs some Yoder. That'll cure this muddy thinking right up.
• What the hell does Jesus think, and how in shit's sake can I know it? Unbelievable. Trite, naive, childish, "now I lay me down to sleep" theology, with a dose of Willard's "Jesus is the smartest man who ever lived" stuff thrown in for the non-Calvinist evangelicals.
• If His story includes creatures meant for damnation, then salvation, goodness, and God's character are ciphers at best, and He's an evil douche at worst (and that is far more likely the closer to Calvin you get).
• He is good and can do no evil. Wow. Thank you, ghost of John Calvin. You've just assigned every God-ordained massacre, flood, famine, pestilence, and holocaust to the category of goodness. Nice that you bring your literalist hermeneutic to the discussion. Where are the grown-ups? This is a complete surrendering of rationality to a hermeneutical naiveté that assumes God gave us our critical faculties just to fuck us real hard when we try to use them.

I'm nearly stupefied at how utterly horrible this piece is. What the hell was Books & Culture thinking including this drivel in the same issue with pieces from Lauren Winner, Mark Noll, Scot McKnight, and an interview with Don DeLillo? How did Wilson's shoddy piece get into that mix? In another comical irony, Wilson accuses Bell of writing a book that reads like a blog post. Um...pot, kettle.

I am Second. Not really. I can actually do theological math.

This will be brief. When the creepiest marketing agency in the world posted a story about the creepiest Idol winner of the ten seasons, I found it impossible not to make fun of at least one of them. The feel good story is about Scotty "This Smile I'm Wearing Means I Just Fucked Your Mom" McReery (McCreepy) wearing an "I am Second" bracelet during American Idol. I think this statement to the media from the organization is supposed to explain why it's important:

“In a competition where it is easy to get caught up in the greatness of ‘me,’ it is refreshing to see a young man who can remember who really is first,” said Mike Jorgensen, I Am Second executive director. “Though we have never spoken with Scotty about I Am Second, it is inspiring to see him take part in the movement and confidently display his faith to millions each week.”

I could point out that he could have displayed his faith by sticking up for the sweet, fat kid who could actually sing, but he chose to ask forgiveness later, rather than do the right thing when it mattered. (Now there's a rare phenomenon.) Nonetheless, it is Inspiring. Yes it is. In an age of rubber bracelets doing double duty as sacred relics and indicators that people who don't volunteer or give money still give a shit, that black bracelet means you needn't worry that Scotty wooed the cute, dumb, exponentially more talented girl so he could win the competition. (I do realize this is at least partially the fault of vapid teenage girls, but it looked like she threw the competition so as to keep her creepy man's love.) Nope. Scotty is second, not first. Jesus is first. And we know this because he too wore a bracelet...wait...fuck. Never mind. He carried a cross, but a bracelet will do in a pinch.

Anyone else see what's wrong with this? You can read this from the I am Second organization, if you don't know where I'm headed. Doesn't matter, though. You can read the entire website, but you won't be able to figure out why their math sucks. There is no explanation for that deficiency. The campaign ostensibly teaches believers that they are not first; Jesus is. They manage to throw in "others" as well, but by my calculations, that would mean the bracelet should say "I am Third," assuming we count others as a collective noun and assign them the value of 1. If they are actually individuals, a category American believers fuckin' adore, then the bracelet would need to be custom made depending on the specific believer's peer group, church size, school size, and facebook friend count. (Google+ is not an issue at this point.)

For example, I don't have a church, but I have 747 fb friends, roughly 50 students (during this summer term), a family, a handful of friends, and a galaxy of acquaintances. My bracelet, if I was inclined to embrace the Christian ethic, would need to say, "I am 1843." This seems petty, but most commandments that are inconvenient seem petty to people of faith (turn the other cheek, don't resist an evil person, don't have sex with your pet...well, not that one). Mr. McCreery isn't second. Nor is anyone else who wears the bracelet. By their own theological math, their number should be far larger. It's yet another goofy example of how individualistic thinking has invaded the Church, and how practitioners of a faith can utter phrases that are completely contradictory to what they allegedly believe and be completely sure they are speaking some deep, spiritual truth.

A Return to Werewolf Sex, or Why Mark Driscoll is not Alcide Herveaux.

Rachel Held Evans, who formerly appeared as part of a Sookie Stackhouse analogy I used once upon a time called "Why Sookie Stackhouse Out to Bang a Werewolf," is back acting as the conscience of sensible evangelicals, a role I sincerely appreciate. This time, she's called out he-man woman hater, Mark Driscoll, who is, according to this picture, not even close to as hot as Sookie's favorite werewolf, Alcide Herveaux.

In fact, following the analogy from that long-ago werewolf sex post, Driscoll is far more like Ken Ham than he is the werewolf savior of the evangelical church. If you never read it, Evans and Ham had a kerfuffle over evolution and creation. I suggested that Evans was trying to convince Sookie (outsiders or weary believers) to stop banging vampires (dead ends in church paradigms and Christian ethics) and begin banging a werewolf (something alive, and a hybrid of two forms). Driscoll doesn't really work as a werewolf, even though he's animated a segment of the Christian church—the douchey segment who likes nearly everything my redneck neighbors like plus John Calvin. Driscoll is the theological equivalent of a Nickelback song, and I wouldn't be surprised to hear he likes the band. That Nickelback writes and performs Dick Rock should not be lost on you. (And when I re-read old posts like that one, I realize how funny wine makes me, or how funny I think I am when I drink wine. You decide.)

Evans goes after Driscoll this time for what has to be the most sophomoric thing the man has yet done. It would be pitiably stupid and childish if Driscoll weren't the pastor of more than 10,000 people. (And that number may be seriously underestimated.) As he does pastor a megachurch and oversee a pastoral network, his latest episode is unconscionable, if not sociopathic. On his facebook status, he posted: "So, what story do you have about the most effeminate anatomically male worship leader you've ever personally witnessed?" (Let's just ignore the missing comma and the unfortunate use of "personally.") Evans called this bullying. I'll leave it to you to read her post, and while you're at it, if you're feeling especially incensed, you can read Elizabeth Drescher's assessment over at RD. (She even goes into Tony Jones's response, which I thought was quite funny, but Drescher doesn't seem to appreciate for very solid reasons, by the way. Seriously, it is the most homoerotic sport of all time.) 

How does a Christian leader get to the point that he believes it's acceptable to single out any demographic for belittling? That he singles out a demographic that has long been the prey of overly-juiced douches in Tap Out gear (Christian and non) is cause for extra shame. Except that I think Driscoll is fundamentally incapable of shame. In the response on Resurgence (sigh), Driscoll demonstrates that he is either so rationally inept as to not realize he completely missed the point, or he's so arrogant he doesn't give a fuck. In the spirit of extra options, I'll allow for "both a and b." Here's part of his response, called "Some Backstory." 

I had a recent conversation with a stereotypical, blue-collar guy who drives his truck with his tools, lunchbox, and hard hat to his job site every day. He said he wasn’t a Christian, but he was open and wanted to learn what the Bible said. In that conversation, he told me he’d visited a church but that the guy doing the music made him feel uncomfortable because he was effeminate (he used another more colorful word, but that one will suffice in its place). He asked some questions about the Bible, and whether the Bible said anything about the kind of guy who should do the music. I explained the main guy doing the music in the Bible was David, who was a warrior king who started killing people as a boy and who was also a songwriter and musician.

I then put a flippant comment on Facebook, and a raging debate on gender and related issues ensued. As a man under authority, my executive elders sat me down and said I need to do better by hitting real issues with real content in a real context. And, they’re right. Praise God I have elders who keep me accountable and that I am under authority.

Let's play the parsing game, shall we? I'll be honest Driscoll. Dear Readers of Resurgence and MMA fans everywhere: Blue collar guys (ed- apparently it's a particular kind of person, all of whom think alike) don't like gay or effeminate worship leaders, therefore, gay or effeminate worship leaders stand between blue collar guys and Jesus. The answer is to assure them that real worship leaders kill people while writing Nickelback homages. It looks like homo, but I think it's pronounced more like cheese, the French kind. And I hate them too. Make fun of them if you want, especially the Catholic ones. Anyway, the comment I made on facebook was not bullying; it was flippant. (ed- I do wonder how many school counselors have spoken to bullies who say, "It was a joke," as if not getting the joke is the true offense, not the crass stupidity, belligerence, and meanness of the bully.) My comment, though flippant, led to a rad debate so that people were talking about God and the Bible, but my elders, being far less hip than me, sat me down and spoke to me in the most unnatural sounding business marketing language ever used on a church leadership team. See, they realized that the real offense wasn't singling out the physically weak or mocking the "other." Nope. It was wasting my words on those queers in the first place. Thank Charlton Heston God for real men who know that I should talk to other real men and not waste my time with women and, you know, those other guys.

To make himself the peerless asshat of the week, Driscoll then closes with an announcement that he'll be starting a new blog to discuss these important gender-related issues. Never let a bullying debacle—I mean opportunity—to market yourself get away, Mark. It should be clear at this point that Reverend (cough) Driscoll follows a gospel that has far more to do with branding and self-aggrandizement than it does with, you know, loving effeminate people because God does too.

The Theology of Baseball, or Why Words Matter (to god) and Outfielders

When a fan topples to his death in a tragic accident at a baseball game, I can think of several things a player should not say after the game. I'm not trying to be irreverent or disrespectful here, so I'll skip the obvious (too soon) jokes. Nothing could be less funny than the six-year old son sitting in the stands watching his father plummet (20 feet, really?) to his death. He actually died en route to the hospital, but either way, the horror that kid must have been experiencing is awful. Bobby Ross, my former editor at the Oklahoman when I wrote a weekly faith and culture column for Mordor, does an excellent job of covering the MSM's response at Get Religion. Bobby closes his piece with the journalistic restraint that has always defined his writing:

In a perfect world, reporters would ask Hamilton to elaborate on what he means when he suggests that “God has a plan” in a situation such as this. Might even be a story there.

He's talking about Josh Hamilton's post-game interview. It was Hamilton who tossed the ball stands-ward in a move that precipitated Shannon Stone's unfortunate overreach. (I have no criticism for that move. Players and fans have been doing it since the game existed.) If you don't know, Hamilton is current Rangers outfielder badass and outspoken born-again Christian. (I'm avoiding the term evangelical until fundamentalists and evangelicals actually decide who owns it and what it means. Until then, I will revert to the born-again verbiage when describing fundangelicals.) After fans and players were made aware that Stone had died, Hamilton was rightly approached by the media. Full transcript is here, but the response I'm focusing on is this one:

I can't imagine what they're going through right now. I can't imagine. All I can think about is praying for them and knowing that God has a plan. You don't always know what that plan is when those things happen, but you will."

David Fitch will forgive me for assuming that the phrase "God has a plan," is yet another empty signifier. It's hard to be angry at Hamilton for what can only be described as a poor choice of words based on a stock phrase in fundangelical Christianity, one that is uttered often and seldom parsed. Still, resorting to trite clichés in the midst of tragedy is a mark of Christianity that needs to be corrected. Why? Well, here are some of the possible meanings of Hamilton's assertion. The order should not be construed as an indication of importance, truth value, or excessive lunacy.

• God wanted Stone to fall out of the stands and die while his son looked on. We can't know why, but we can trust that God had a very good reason for traumatizing a six-year old and killing his father, even though we can't know it.
• God has a plan, but it's too big to know and this may have nothing to do with it.
• God's plan wasn't for Stone to die, but shit happens.
• The devil fucked up God's plan.
• God's plan is subject to the freewill of humans.
• I don't really know what to say, so I'll say something that sounds spiritual and reassuring (which is actually ghastly).
• We will eventually know what the plan is when we reconstruct history later based on how things have developed. We will, of course, give God credit for all the good that came from it while ignoring all the other shit, and we will never consider the possibilities that: a) there is no god, or b) if there is a god, he surely doesn't plan on shit like this.
• We will know the plan later when we follow Stone through the gates of death, where god will apparently have a spreadsheet detailing all the algorithmic variables of his plan and how he fuckin' nailed it!

Okay, so some of that was snarkier than other parts, and the first one was listed because it's a hideous thing to say to a child, so fundangelicals who have lost the gift of critical thinking use this shorthand version of "God killed your dad." Lest you think I mean all fundangelicals, I don't. Some have learned to simply be present when tragedy strikes rather than offer up torturous explanations for why a clearly monstrous god—according to the ramifications of their theology—is fully good. May their tribe increase.

Clearly, the phrase is offered as some sort of comfort, but a very simple parsing, as above, shows that it means everything and nothing, and in the Zizekian world of empty signifiers, that epistemcially empty and contextually flexible characteristic is a dead giveaway. In fairness, it may not be devoid of epistemic content. Had the reporters followed Ross's advice and asked a simple follow-up question, we might actually know which of the above possibilities Hamilton meant. I suspect it's the first; it's almost always the first. Nothing more clearly reveals the shallowness of fundangelical thinking than embracing that first possibility. The ramifications are horrific, unless you simply mean for everyone to convert to some literalistic brand of Calvinism. If that's the case, possibility one is exactly what you mean.

The theological category here is redemption: to get something back or to bring something good from evil circumstance. It's the theology of Joseph when forgiving his brothers: You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good. In the world of ancient Hebrews, YHWH was completely sovereign; the text indicates otherwise, but worldviews are worldviews and they're seldom deconstructed. A very simple exegesis of the text allows for the possibility that god can redeem any circumstance and use it for the good of humans and his glory. A darker exegesis insists that god orchestrates all these things for the purpose of glorifying himself and benefitting the few humans he's chosen to save. You decide which is the good god and which is the monster. All Hamilton had to say was, "This is a tragedy, and I can't explain it, but I believe God will ultimately bring something good out of all this." God still gets the focus Hamilton insists on giving Him, but he's relieved of the responsibility of killing a six-year old's father. It's your text; you decide how to read it.

Falls Creek Can't Save You, or Why Congressmen aren't Marginalized

Before you do anything else, you have to read this story in the Ada Evening News from Ada, Okla. Try to ignore the egregious subject/verb agreement error in paragraph 2, and pretend punctuation doesn't matter throughout. This is Ada, after all. For you out of state readers, Falls Creek is the summer camp (town, really) for the Baptist General Convention of Oklahoma (SBC). I made a snarky comment on facebook tonight, my status actually:

Man, just saw a church sign that said Falls Creek is next week. Six days to pregnancy, first gay experience, and disillusionment for teens all over Oklahoma! Go Falls Creek!

This inspired a friend to forward the Ada story to me. I'm not sure anyone ever got pregnant at Falls Creek, but this is the age of Morning After pills and Plan B, so with all due respect to Congressman Lankford, parents may not know what their kids did at Falls Creek, and some may not ever call. Hear of shame or embarrassment, or, frankly, the inability to nail down an actual date? That goes doubly for gay liaisons. I do know a few gay friends who had a rendezvous at Falls Creek, and no way in hell were they going to go home and confess to SBC parents what had occurred. Seriously, the story says 4-1 ratio of campers to adults, but are we supposed to believe there is no smoking, drinking, or sex at a church camp? This ain't just Falls Creek I'm picking on. It happens all over the country every summer. With that being said, let's turn to the story and our newly elected congressman, who, by the way, used to be a counselor at Falls Creek before he ran for Congress and won. (I'll leave you to decide the quality of those qualifications.)

Let's just make observations in order as they occur in the story. I haven't used this approach in some time, and since I'm two movies and two bottles of wine into the night, it'll make organization simpler.

• Teen pregnancy, high school drop out rates, and illicit drug use high in a state where 1/4 of people are some kind of Baptist and where more than half are evangelical or fundamentalist Christian. It's possible this means we need less Christianity, not more. Just a thought. If Christianity is the leaven that leavens the whole lump, how is it possible that in a state with one of the highest church attendance rates in the nation these issues are problematic?
• Um, it's not statistics that are hurting today's generation; it's behavior. One hopes that camp counselors hope to fight against these behaviors, not the statistics. That would be almost as quixotic as a war on drugs or terrorism, two things Oklahoma Baptists tend to be for.
• 41% of births from unwed mothers is high. What to do? I know. We'll get 'em to sing songs and confess and pray after a sermon in which they're told premarital sex is wrong. We will not discuss safe sex or birth control. That would be sinful, and besides, the sermons are working so far, right?
• Lankford is wrong. Teens definitely enjoy sex. I was a teen once. I enjoyed it, even if I sucked at it. (Ha, there's a pun there...admittedly, it would be better if I was gay.)
• Incomprehensible from our congressman: “The farther we go down this direction, the more chaos there will be in families and in lives and in our own government structure and everything." Everything? Really? Like in our refrigerators and dreams and cars and baseball card collections and libraries? And why will this result in chaos in our government? Will they be getting pregnant and high too? Maybe they should have emailed him the questions in advance.
• Echo of the generation before them: We're scared of black people! Damn Mexicans ruin everything! Women should stay home! We love Rush Limbaugh! Glenn Beck is a genius! God bless George W. Bush! Yeah, listen up, kids. Your parents never engaged in these behaviors, did you, parents? Nope. No sex or drugs for them. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.
• Where are they headed? What path are we discussing? If they use condoms and birth control pills, there is no pregnancy in their future. Where will weed take them? To the presidency, if the last three are any indication.
• Complete, unfiltered nonsense from our congressman: “I do think there is a cultural de-emphasis on faith,” he said. “If you have faith, you’re marginalized. You’re just one of those people at one of those churches, and that’s not really mainstream.” Um, what's that, person who was just elected to Congress? You're marginalized? Well, I guess since there are only 435 of you, that's technically true. You are marginalized to the upper margin.
• Do not want to discuss the fabricated statistic that 500-800 have no church background. they do. they may not have been in a while, but they do.
• This is called an exercise in futility. Trust me. I teach college. “They’re geared towards helping the Christian students go forward in their faith. We’ll be addressing to Christian students the cultural things we’re seeing.” The absolute worst human being I had in class last semester, bar none, is a huge Falls Creek advocate. Called it life changing. She was a petulant, pouty, whiny, disrespectful, lazy, lying cheater with a grandiose sense of entitlement. So glad she made it to Falls Creek. Really changed her life. Perhaps she was a murderer before I met her.
• On this, we agree: "There’s a piece of truth out there that we need to pick up.” We probably disagree on what it is, but we agree that it's out there. Pretty sure it's not a summer youth camp, though.

Christian Nation, Fitch, Non-Crackers, and the SBC 2011

There was quite a spirited debate on the floor of the Southern Baptist Convention's annual meeting in Phoenix today. A couple Baptist friends were disgusted enough that they turned off live streaming and ignored twitter feeds. The debate was about a resolution on immigration that contained the following verbiage:

That we ask our governing authorities to implement, with the borders secured, a just and compassionate path to legal status, with appropriate restitutionary measures, for those undocumented immigrants already living in our country.

You can imagine how well that went over with the largely Cracker messengers of the SBC. Ironically, the chair of the resolutions committee, non-ironically named Paul (like the apostle) Jimenez (like a Latino), replied that it wasn't about "amnesty," the concern of the angry cracker mob carrying pitchforks...er...Bibles; rather, it was a "realistic and biblical approach to immigration."

I could write forever on the complications of asserting what a biblical approach or perspective is to an issue that the Bible doesn't really touch on, but I won't here. Suffice it to say that even Jim Wallis, that lovable liberal of a Jesus freak, gets it wrong when he insists on applying the language of "alien and sojourner" to this debate. The Hebrew people did not have immigration policy at the national level, Jim, so let's leave the Bible out of this debate, unless you're using it to castigate angry Crackers, and then I'm with you, sort of.

This brings me to this week's installment of:

If you've not been following, it's best to read this and this first. If you don't want to, I understand, but don't say something stupid in the comments. Deal? Okay. Fitch's third master signifier is Christian Nation. Oh dear. I can't tell you the rage that phrase engenders when I hear it, either in class or from a politican. For the record, I'm not enraged at the students, just the adults who lied to them in the first place. For the prior two signifiers, decision for Christ and inerrant Bible, Fitch was on board. He seems to affirm both those signifiers as somehow accurate descriptions of a state of affairs. For this one though, I found no such affirmation. In fact, Fitch seems to agree with the negation of the obvious inference that "there is no such thing as a redeemed social entity (or corporation)." (Fitch, 117) Yet another reason to like the man. What Fitch points to with this signifier is relevant to the discussion in Phoenix today.

The result is a justice done at a distance (ed.--if at all). In this way, then, "the Christian Nation" shapes us corporately into a posture of dispassion toward the poor, the hurting, and the lost. As a result, we are a politic incompatible with the Gospel. (Fitch, 121).

 

The Southern Baptists aren't obligated to take a "biblical" position on immigration, but many will insist in some way that they are, whether it be a vacuous nod to "obey the governing authorities," or with Wallis, an appeal to "alien and stranger" language. Fitch rightly points out that both these are wrong-headed if they begin with the assumption that America is a Christian Nation or even a nation governed by Christian principles (empty signifiers abound in metaphysics, it seems). Fitch fairly, finally, and rightly calls out Wallis as one who "defended these political goals (within God's Politics) on arguably more theocratic and biblical grounds than anyone on the Christian right defended theirs." (Fitch, 110)

The problem with Christian Nation language, beyond its absurd existence as an oxymoron, is that it reveals that Christians who ought to know better believe: "We can enforce socially a personal morality that is possible (so we say) only by personal conversion." (Fitch, 111) There simply isn't a subset of beliefs called "Christian principles" upon which this nation was built. A cursory glance at the history of our laws, Constitution, and formation reveals what a howler of a lie the Christian Nation is. This is preaching to the choir, I'm sure, but Fitch finally deals this idiocy the death blow it deserves, because Christians refuse to read Noll, Hatch and Marsden. Given that it is a master signifier in certain fundangelical circles, it's not likely to go quietly, if at all, and with the loon-in-waiting Michele Bachmann uttering "we are the head and not the tail" mantras nationwide, things are looking bleak for this next election cycle. Nothing is more antithetical to Christianity than triumphalism, a reality I wish some Christians actually understood. And Christian Nation is triumphalism of an ugly variety.

The Christian Nation is also tenacious, and it is such because it's a good lie. Many of the Founding Fathers were Christians. God is mentioned in the Declaration of Independence—our national divorce decree—but not in the Constitution, our actual founding document. However, the ideal serves to "rally the troops," an indication of a genuine master signifier. What is left to do is parse the Good Book in hopes of extracting the genuine Christian Principles we must use to build a Christian Nation. I leave that to Ms. Bachmann and the scared Crackers in the SBC, who are trying to figure out how the non-Crackers are going to fit into their beloved denomination (committee, anyone?). It's a quixotic task, but with Sarah Palin as her Sancho Panza, it may be that the two can find a windmill to tilt, and if they do, there will be plenty of fundangelicals along for the ride, but not many brown ones.

I'll Still Be Here May 22 Either Way, or Why the Rapture is an Adorable Heresy

Barring a bizarre death scenario, I'll be here post-Rapture a week from Sunday. I'll either wake to the news of a massive, worldwide disappearance of annoying fundamentalists (how is that a bad thing?) and a few Chrisitians I actually like, or I'll wake to Harold Camping's explanation of why the Rapture did not occur on May 21, 2011, as he's predicted. Or, perhaps he won't. When the Second Coming failed to materialize for Jehovah Witnesses in 1914 and 1915, they began a series of explanations that finally ended when it didn't happen again in 1975. They didn't even bother to explain that one. The nature of the faithful is that they will believe whatever is necessary to maintain their belief, especially in the face of evidence to the contrary. For many faith groups, it's considered a "test" of their faith, especially among the LDS who go so far as to insist that reality is simply a trick of the devil—think maya, the Hindu "illusion," with a 19th century American twist. 

Many of you already know I grew up Pentecostal. I had the great misfortune of entering my oversexed teen years in conjunction with some horrifying books on end times prophecy hitting bestseller lists: Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey and The Vision by David Wilkerson, he of The Cross and the Switchblade fame. (In Wilkerson's defense, he actually predicted nudity on television, although he didn't predict pay television. Lindsey got nothing right.) Nothing contributes to teen angst about burning in hell for poontang quite like the promise of Jesus' imminent return. I spent the years from 12-16, when I abruptly left the faith for about ten years, anguishing over the threat of enduring the Tribulation for the sake of one more shot at Melanie's vajayjay. Surely beheading at the hands of the forces of Antichrist was worth one more shot at a natural redhead?

Like most (all) Pentecostal kids, I survived the 70s unRaptured, and the 80s, 90s, and 00s. I no longer know what "Jesus is coming soon," actually means, unless we're talking Latina porn. I barely escaped the 80s, at least according to the now deceased Edgar C. Whisenant. His pamphlet, 88 reasons Why The Rapture Will Be in 1988: The Feast of Trumpets (Rosh Hash-Ana) September, 11-12-13, now strangely out of print, caused a shitstorm in Pentecostal/Charismatic churches. Seriously. People selling their houses, quitting jobs, fucking that secretary they'd always...never mind. (I suspect Jesus was just pissed about the long-ass subtitle and was like, "Suck it, Edgar.") Anyway, survive the past 46 years I have, and I no longer worry about the Rapture. My last ten or so years as a Christian, a period which ended in 2006 if you're doing the Biblical numerology thing (always important when Rapture watching), I no longer believed in the Rapture. It was a position that caused some consternation at Southwestern Christian University, a school I was invited to leave my junior year. Apparently, according to one professor, "If Horton will compromise on the truth of the Rapture, what won't he compromise on?" Exactly. Disbelieve the Rapture, have sex with children. Ah, fundamentalism. How I don't miss you. An otherwise intelligent man who went to Harvard reduced to trite stupidity by the doctrine of a Jesus party a half mile off the ground.

I stopped believing in the Rapture because it's silly, even by metaphysical standards. It is, quite frankly, heretical. It does illustrate, though, that heresy is most often defined by what the majority will or won't accept, not by a test of exegesis. When John Nelson Darby first introduced this idea in the 18th century, no one had ever heard of such a thing. Had it not been popularized in Scofield's shitty annotations/references, it would have died a quick death on the moors of England. Alas. It's based on one verse. One. Nothing new to fundamentalism, mind you. They're convinced marriage is about one man and one woman, in the presence of hundreds of permissions for polygamy. Paul is writing to the Thessalonians. He uses a Greek word. The English transliteration ended up being Rapture. Now, here's the fun part. Grab verses from all over the Bible about judgment or last things or war or blood or Russia (yes, these guys used to believe the end times had to involve Russia), add them to that one verse, construct any end-times scenario you wish, blend, enjoy.

If the Rapture happens next weekend, I'll give every reader $100 dollars. However, what you must realize is that if it does happen, I just have to avoid you for about 3.5 years, and then Antichrist will be revealed and the smiting begins. At that point, I'll join the forces of Antichrist, and if you demand your money, I'll have you beheaded, because according to the Revelation, Antichrist cuts people's heads off. Apparently, when Lucifer returns to earth, he's utterly fucking befuddled by bullets and bombs and technology.

SEALs and Imprecations: Bringing the Biblical Lexicon to Bear on Osama

Last night goes down as one of the most amazing social network nights of all time. At this point, you either are involved in some form of social networking or you are simply stocking up dried beans and bottles of water, waiting 'til the Luddite neighbors in your compound finish tossing all the electronic equipment in the well, so the forces of anticrhrist can't find you off the grid. It was also a night in which the various communities of reference within Christianity showed off the vast array of language games that divide them. Facebook and Twitter were rife with Bible verses, judgments, name calling, celebrations, imprecatory psalms, jeremiads, and Old Testament smiting-the-shit-outta-evil-fuckers talk. I joined in the fun, because, well, because I was two bottles of wine into the night and it was what Americans did last night, damnit.

I should say immediately that I'm not going to take sides on which Christian tribe is more correct with their use of Scripture. I simply don't care at this point. As long as they aren't using it to keep gay people single, they can pretty much do what they want with the pacifists versus flag waving evangelicals versus violent fetishists versus the hippie Jesus camp. My intent here is to highlight what I said many times as I exited the faith: you can make that Book do anything once you decide what you believe. Two camps make this abundantly clear.

For my friends on the Christus Victor/pacifist/anabaptist side of the debate, the judgment was swift. No one should celebrate the death of another, even an evil other. Proof texts were supplied: "I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked," and other verses did duty beyond their prophetic tradition. Rene Girard's name was quickly tossed out, along with an appeal to avoid scapegoating. Which leads me to an excursus:

Excursus: I think it's wrong to use Girard here. The concept of scapegoating in Girard is to place the collective sin/guilt of the community upon one and use violence against that one for the sake of expiation. In that sense, even the innocent, a la Jesus, will do. Killing bin Laden was a military tactic (and a sound one, if I'm allowed to editorialize for a moment), and it was a form of retributive justice directed at a mass murderer. Hardly the kind of collective catharsis Girard had in mind. Maybe not the ideal/preferred form of justice for one of the tribes, but not scapegoating as Girard envisioned it.

There was a catharsis of sorts, though. Certainly for those who were directly affected by 9/11, the evening held what one friend who lost a brother in the attacks described as a bittersweet sense of justice. That sort of catharsis makes sense. The Christians tossing out imprecatory psalms as a form of theological justification and community catharsis was entirely bizarre. Again, proof texts were supplied. "But the wicked shall perish...," etc. It's a way of saying, "I know I'm supposed to love the enemy, but the Bible seems to indicate that I can whoop it up for a second before I pray for his soul."

Aside from the linguistic family resemblance, Christians looked like two utterly different camps last night. I didn't hear much from my Catholic friends, so it's possible they had a third response. How is it possible that the same book that allegedly is so clear about sin, salvation, god, morality, etc., allows for community formation that is so ethically contradictory? Is it because the texts are pulled to form a mini canon based on a prior set of assumptions that have nothing to do with the text? How else do you explain it? We talked a great deal about hermeneutical lenses in grad school, but it appears the lens here is not hermeneutical but ideological, and then hermeneutics is made to serve the ideology.

Both camps seem to share the affliction of reading too narrowly. The former seems to view justice only as eschatological, as if we don't have to live here, now. The blatant wish-fulfillment of a hermeneutic that reads only pacifism in the text fails to adequately address the need, at least provisionally, of violent justice here and now. It's as if they ignore every instance in Scripture in which God kills, including that all important last book. The latter fails to take seriously Jesus' words in the Sermon on the Mount. Conveniently, that bit of ethical sermonizing is given short shrift as it is handed off to the glorious filter of the Apostle Paul. "The law is the tutor that brings us to Christ, for no one can keep the whole law, and one who tries is indebted to the whole law." How convenient. The ethical demands of the alleged Savior are made out to be instructional tools to reveal to us our insufficiency. Perhaps it's time for a little Pascal.

In his Provincial Letters, Pascal enters into an hysterical dialog with a casuist priest who tries to convince him that he need not fast. He is encouraged to read various opinions from church polemicists as to why he is free not to follow his duty. Pascal takes the priest through a series of rhetorical logic movements, the end result being that the priest is forced into admitting that nearly anything may be permitted, including, as Pascal puts it: "I am rejoiced at this, Father, and since we are allowed not to avoid opportunities of sin, it only remains that we be permitted deliberately to seek them." The priest enters into a long justification in which Pascal goads him about his inability to be consistent or to uphold clear teachings and decisions of Scripture, Popes, and Councils. The priest, sounding much like those who avoid the clear meaning of the Sermon on the Mount, says:

I should be excessively chagrined that you should suppose we are deficient in our duty; but you have doubtless adopted this idea from certain opinions of our Fathers, which seem to controvert their own decisions, though it is not so in reality. -- Blaise Pascal, Provincial Letters, Letter V, The Design of the Jesuits in establishing a new Morality.

See, Jesus just seems to insist on a higher ethic. He doesn't really. And to prove that, here's the Apostle Paul...