
Nativity mural at Batahola Norte Catholic Church in Managua, Nicaragua - a centre of liberating theology in a region of the world still blighted by poverty and injustice.
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Religion is rarely out of the news. But how much of it is simply "bad faith" for humanity and the planet? Simon Barrow reflects theologically on current events (and cultural blips) from an engaged Christian perspective. FaithInSociety seeks a conversation between reason and hope, shaped by the subversive memory of the Gospel. (c) SB 2003-12.

Part of the annual squabble about the extent to which a Christian festival should be marked in the public life of a plural nation like Britain has been a rather thin running commentary on the biblical stories concerning the birth of Christ. What is striking about the response of both ardent secularists and religious fundamentalists is that they read texts in such a narrow, unimaginative way. One side pronounces with great solemnity its non-acceptance of these ‘made up stories’, while the other insists that every detail is some forensic description of an ancient event. The rest of us, I guess, can only wonder at the naiveté of treating evocative narratives in such a stultifying way.
Amazon inform me that people who have expressed interest in The God Who May Be: The Hermeneutics of Religion (Indiana Series in the Philosophy of Religion) by Richard Kearney - a book I have found very stimulating - have also ordered Faith, Reason and Compassion: A Philosophy of the Christian Faith by James A. Gilman. For once I'm inclined to take their advice. (Last time they told me that people who read Rowan Williams enjoyed watching Shrek. Hmnnn...). A few years ago, Gilman wrote a very good book called Fidelity of Heart: An Ethic of Christian Virtue, which I consumed as part of a growing interest in the whole 'virtue ethics' discussion. It was more than enough to convince me to buy his latest, which was published last week, along with David J. Bartholemew's Uncertain Belief: Is It Rational To Be A Christian. (The answer is 'yes', but a good deal of unhealthy certainty-mongering masquerading as fidelity is rightly dispatched on the way.) The synopsis for Faith, Reason and Compassion: A Philosophy of the Christian Faith: "What is the relationship between faith and reason? How should faith and reason situate themselves in relation to each other? These are the chief questions that James Gilman seeks to address in this new title. An innovative new book in philosophy of religion, it treats the problems typical of the discipline in an untypical way, with a methodology that presupposes a particular religious tradition, in this case Christianity, and that re-enfranchises emotions (e.g., compassion) as crucial to shaping solutions to philosophical problems."
“To understand reality is not the same as to know about outward events. It is to perceive the essential nature of things. The best-informed [person] is not necessarily the wisest. Indeed there is a danger that precisely in the multiplicity of knowledge [s/he] will lose sight of what is essential. But on the other hand, knowledge of an apparently trivial detail quite often makes it possible to see into the depth of life. And so the wise [person] will seek to acquire the best possible knowledge about events, but always without becoming dependent upon this knowledge."
More on the kind of world called into being by the nativity of Christ. Back in 2004, biblical scholar John Dominic Crossan (whose energy and general trajectory I like very much, though I go further than he is prepared to on a number of issues - as I shall elaborate below) co-authored with Jonathan L. Reed the book In Search of Paul: How Jesus's Apostle Opposed Rome's Empire with God's Kingdom. BeliefNet's Deborah Caldwell interviewed him about this at the time, specifically in relation to the meaning of the nativity story. Here's an excerpt, where he describes what was going on in the Roman Empire at the time of Jesus' birth (the first couple of sentences are alarmingly contemporary in geopolitical terms) and then situates this in relation to the Gospel's alternative.
Many thanks to Daniel Liechty for this pearl, in the midst of an intra-Mennonite conversation about the disciplines of non-exclusion and spiritual transformation. It very well illustrates the meaning of a polity which holds a centre through the active example of a living community, rather than policing the boundaries with fences and brickbats:
Amidst the tinsel and cheer elsewhere, stark reality faces Bethlehem this Christmas. The city is contending with economic stranglehold, a dispirited and diminishing population, and social disintegration as a result of an effective Israeli blockade. The beleagured Christian minority has been particularly badly hit. For some time civic, Christian and Muslim leaders have been pushing the international Open Bethlehem campaign - seeking to revive the city through tourism, and to change its socio-political situation through external pressure.
"The question for us is always “how can we turn information into transformation?” How can we use the sacred texts to lead people into new places with God, with life, with themselves? This is surely true with our Lucan texts on the birth of Jesus. They have largely been sentimentalized in Christmas card fashion. We no doubt enjoy such 'Christmas cards', yet they don’t really change our lives in any substantive way ...
In a recent article about 'the Christmas wars', Giles Fraser observed: "The distinction between Christianity and Christendom is not widely understood." He's right. Whether we are Christians or not, our whole way of thinking about God, the church, theology and the subversive narrative of Jesus is still imprisoned in the functionalist assumption that Christianity is, or needs to be, an essentially 'established', 'recognised', 'buttressed' or 'majority' faith. Privileged in the social, cultural, political and economic order, in other words. It is this that produces the "either it must be imposed or it must be deleted" approach to religion in public life beloved of putative dogmatists on all sides.
In an earlier post I was thinking about how to respond in some thoughtful but not-too-technical manner to basic questions such as "what is Christian faith?" and "What does it mean to be a Christian?” I had a go a the first one. Here is my stab at the second, which - in the way that I view things - needs to incorporate the shape of the first in a coherent way. What I've attempted is a personal answer which tries to show some awareness of the formal categories involved. For some it will be too sinewy, for others too clinical. But we have to go on risking inadequacy in the way that we live and the way we speak. That's what opening ourselves to God means.
Ooh, this one's dangerous. I know my blog is supposed to be terribly serious, waxing about the waning of the world, gibbering about God - that sort of thing. But how could anyone resist such a charming invitation as this? - especially when it's from Maggi Dawn, who's in the midst of writing a book right now. Not that I'm implying blogospheric procrastination or anything like that. (Though that's what would be going on if it was me.) Anyway, here are my Five Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me, a questionable idea inspired by (the) Roger von Oech. They're not as deep as Ruth Gledhill's. But then the task wasn't five useful things, was it, he asks in feeble self defence?
Middle England stirred minimally today, as that quintessentially medium-blend radio soap opera, The Archers, saw its longest-running gay love affair joyously confirmed in a civil partnership - which also managed to dent the walls of suburban prejudice, and cleverly culminate in a heterosexual marriage proposal at the after-ceremony reception. So much for lesbian and gay partnerships threatening the age old institution of matrimony. Anyway, Ekklesia got in on the act (Christians welcome civil partnership in Ambridge) courtesy of a tip-off from Pink News. The story was also covered in different ways by The Stage (A very Ambridge wedding) and The Guardian (A walk on the wild side). There's a lurking irony in me being quoted wishing the happy couple all the best, which is that I have a long-term aversion to The Archers. I am known to grumble loudly when it comes on, usually because I have just turned BBC Radio 4 on in the hope of some news, some comedy, some dramatic relief, or a depressing documentary about the exploitation of yak farmers in Mongolia. Still, Ambridge came up trumps this evening. And I know quite a few clergy listeners who would be more than willing to bless the newly-hitcheds. I just hope someone remembers to send Christian Voice's Stephen Green some tablets for his queazy stomach. He has been described as suffering from homophobia, but the pedants among us are apt to point out that it is actually more properly labelled heterophobia - fear of 'the other'. [Picture: Andy and Ian get hitched, courtesy of the Beeb]
On 3 December 2006, Observer columnist Nick Cohen wrote an article about the often aggressive defence, or re-assertion of, Christianity in British public life. As a critic of 'establishment faith' I sympathise with many of his concerns, but he seems to write all but the most controlling kinds of religion out of the script and therefore produces an account which is in danger of veering into caricature and offers no way beyond "a plague on them all" or a war of counter-assertion. Before his piece was filed, Jonathan Bartley had briefed Cohen, at his own instigation, on the post-Christendom argument and some alternative takes on 'Christmas wars' et al. He chose not to pursue these angles, but the reference in his subsequent article portrayed Ekklesia as 'the left wing' in an intra-Anglican row. Which misses the point at more levels than one. This week The Observer published my response (below). Incidently, they entitled it 'Cohen's phoney war'. I had, of course, referred to the phoney war described by Nick Cohen. Which is different. And consciously so:
Two unhelpful approaches are dominating debates about the role of faith in public life right now. One is the increasingly assertive voice of organised religion defending its privileges and questioning cultural freedom – everything from what plays we should watch to who ‘owns’ Christmas. The other resides in the anxious criticism of many ‘cultured despisers’, who see public religious expression only as a problem to be contained.
It's been an absolute pleasure and privilege to work with former Iraq hostages Norman Kember, Jim Loney and Harmeet Singh Sooden over the past 72 hours. Jim and Harmeet came to London to meet up with Norman, and to make a media statement that clarified why they feel that forgiveness and restorative justice are the way forward in relation to the men who captured them and held them prisoner for 118 days. Ekklesia was honoured to be asked to coordinate the media bids and yesterday's press conference, and the resulting coverage has mainly been pretty positive so far - recognising the integrity of the men's position and the challenge their action poses to the terrible cycles of violence which have been ripping Iraq apart - as Jim said, during the years of Saddam's brutal dictatorship, and then in the context of US-led war and occupation and the horrific aftermath - 3,000 deaths a month, and some thousand people fleeing every day.
There's an excellent article in yesterday's Guardian, by Stephen Tomkins, on why he is giving up Christmas for Advent. As he rightly points out, it is a bit rich for Christians to complain that their festival is being nicked by 'pagans', when they stole it from honest hedonists in the first place. Rather than whining about his image (or its absence) on seasonal postage stamps, it might be better for the churches to start taking the narrative of Jesus seriously as a shaping factor in their own identity - you know: hospitality to the outsider, peacemaking, celebration, justice-doing, enemy-loving. That kind of thing. For the more Christianity is turned into a civic vehicle for 'culture wars', the more commitment to genuine discipleship is obscured and compromised. And the more it feeds the fear of those who believe that religion is nothing but a malevolent fanstasy aimed at lording-it over others. [On another tack... Fair Trade Christmas ideas here]
You can't win, really. So it's best not to try. Winning is for losers. And here's why: Christians and other "religious people" are routinely accused of being intolerant, impatient, ignorant and unpleasant - not without reason sometimes, sadly. But according to a piece in the latest Sunday Times (a profile of John Sentamu, though it wanders a bit) the problem with Rowan Williams, the current Archbishop of Canterbury, is that he is none of these things. Instead he's pleasant, thoughtful and commends careful listening ahead of hasty action. This, apparently, is even worse. How dare he refuse to adopt the commandeering manner we expect of our "real leaders". String him up! Oh, hang on, they did that to someone else, didn't they? Maybe this Christian lark isn't supposed to be brutal and simple after all....
Explains ever-inspired cartoonist Dave Walker: "Th[is] drawing illustrates the fact that people cannot often be subdivided into those who talk continual sense and those who talk continual rubbish. Life is more like B) than A), although I would be unwise to generalise." [Pic (c) the artist]
Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.
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The history of a dangerous idea was explored on Radio 4's Start The Week (available to listen to online for a week) by the American writer Mark Kurlansky yesterday. Non-violence, he argues, is one of the rare truly revolutionary ideas, a threat to the established order. A clue to its subversive nature lies in the fact that there is not even a 'proper' word for it, except as an expression of what it is not. Kurlansky explores political and religious views towards non-violence in the context of wars throughout the centuries and asks why religions, which reject violence in their teachings, are so often the cause of war. Appropriately, his book has a foreword by the Dalai Lama. The work, Non-Violence: The History of a Dangerous Idea, is published by Jonathan Cape. Mark Kurlansky is also appearing in a debate with A. C. Grayling at the Purcell Room (London's South Bank Centre) on 28 November at 7.45pm: Fighting Talk: Pacifism, War and International Relations.
Rowan Williams in his recent lecture on St Benedict and the Future of Europe: "Borrowing a Hegelian insight refined by the late Gillian Rose in her political philosophy, we must say that every initial self-description of a person’s or a community’s interest is necessarily involved in error to the extent that it has not yet fully engaged with what is other to it, with the stranger whose presence may first be felt as a threat or a problem. Good governance and government is always about an engagement with the other, a developing relation that is neither static confrontation nor competition, but an interaction producing some sort of common language and vision, a common vision that could not have been defined in advance of the encounter."
The word "philosophy "means "love of wisdom," but the absence of love from philosophical discourse is curiously glaring. So where did the love go? In The Erotic Phenomenon, leading postmetaphysical philosopher and Catholic thinker Jean-Luc Marion asks this fundamental question about his own discipline, while reviving inquiry into the concept of love itself. Marion begins with a critique of Descartes' equation of the ego's ability to doubt with the certainty that one exists -"I think therefore I am" - arguing that this is worse than vain. We encounter love, he says, when we first step forward as a lover: I love therefore I am, and my love (regard for the other) is the reason I care whether I exist or not. Marion then probes several manifestations of love and its variations, including carnal excitement, self-hate, lying and perversion, fidelity, the generation of children, and the love of God. Throughout, he stresses that all erotic phenomena, including sentimentality, pornography, and even boasts about one's sexual conquests, stem not from the ego as popularly understood but instead from love in its various guises. {edited description}
The row over whether British Airways (BA) staff can wear religious costume jewellery trivialises the real issues highlighted by the Cross – turning it into a club badge rather than a symbol of liberation, claims a leading Christian commentator today. Giles Fraser – who is vicar of Putney, an Oxford philosophy lecturer and founder of Inclusive Church – said on BBC Radio 4’s Thought for the Day slot this morning that “many Christians like me remain deeply uneasy that the way the cross is being defended by some is transforming it into a symbol of cultural identity.” Continued.
Jim Wallis: Religion Must Be Disciplined by Democracy. This week, The Washington Post and Newsweek launched a new feature – "On Faith" – an online discussion of religion and its impact. Wallis has joined more than 50 other religious leaders, scholars and activists from different faiths and different places on the political spectrum on a panel that includes Desmond Tutu, Karen Armstrong, Elie Wiesel, and many more. In the succeeding features, a question on a topic connected to religion or spirituality in the public sphere will be posed and panel members as well as readers will respond.
I've often wondered why so many Christians get knicker-wettingly uptight about comedy -- especially satire. It's as if some of us were born with a massive irony defecit. What prompts this thought is the lastest rehearsed outrage at the film Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. Borat is, of course, deliberately intended to make us uncomfortable about how we and those around us see things and each other. Its main target is prejudice itself. Well, apart from making us belly laugh and feel a bit guilty for doing so at the same time. No bad thing. Comedy can be a good way of disarming both ourselves and the powers-that-be, refusing to take either too seriously, though it is rarely morally unambiguous (if it's any good).
New Generation Network is the name of a new think tank and discussion initiative which is being launched later today by the admirable Sunny Hundal [pictured] of Pickled Politics, an acclaimed webzine which focuses on British and international politics, media and society from a broad, mainly South Asian perspective. NGN's initial 'manifesto' is calling for an improved debate on race and faith - which at the moment is dominated by extreme sectional interests, the government's demonising of minority communities, and a self-selecting "great and good" approach to public consultation. The NGN founding statement raises important issues from an independent perspective, and I was pleased to sign it myself - Ekklesia is certainly supportive of this venture, but it is one forged by individuals rather than organisations and 'representatives'. Indeed the question of who really 'represents' whom in the fields of religion and race is one of the necessarily awkward questions it is raising. The 'manifesto' will be published on The Guardian’s Comment is Free pages today and is noted in a short news story. That will also serve as a starting point for a week of debates on CIF around the future of race and faith in the UK. The NGN will be on the BBC Radio 4 Today programme at 7:20am, Five Live at 8:35am (they are doing a big programme on Islam), and Asian Network at 11:15am. Possibly also Channel 4 TV. Ekklesia will be issuing a supporting press release, which will also be on our news brief and in the Daily Email Bulletin. Sunny Hundal's hard-hitting Guardian article is entitled: This system of self-appointed leaders can hurt those it should be protecting. "It is in all our interests to challenge those who wrongly claim to be speaking for Britain's minority communities."
Martin E. Marty on the recent US elections and religion: 'The Christian Right took shape in the 1980s with the motives of the "politics of resentment," its members having long felt, and been, disdained. In the years of the Reagan charm, they found it easy to gain power, so they moved to the "politics of will-to-power," still voicing resentment. Many sounded as if they should and maybe could "win it all" and "run the show." They have now begun to learn what mainline Protestants and mainline evangelicals, Catholics, Jews, and humanists know: No one is simply going to "run the show" in the American pluralist mix, as we watch shifting powers face off against other shifting powers, which is what happened again in the mid-term elections.'
So much churchgoing is just religious practices and not godly living and godly exploring. Something seems to have gone very wrong. I believe that [through pluralism and secularity] God is bringing pressures to bear on us which could and should reawaken us to the immense God-possibilities which are around in the world and in people and in the church. We ought to be reawakened to the powerful resources and insights which are available in and through the biblical records and in and through the various Christian traditions—if only we will not shut them up in the practices of religion.
Contemporary classics revisited. In The God Who May Be: The Hermeneutics of Religion (Indiana University Press series in the philosophy of religion, 2001), Richard Kearney proposes that instead of thinking of God as "actual," circumscribed by human notions of "being" and realised temporality, God might best be thought of as something like "the coming possibility of the impossible." Through refiguring narrative-biblical perceptions of God, and breaking with dominant metaphysical-speculative traditions of religious speech, Kearney draws on the work of Paul Ricoeur, Emmanuel Levinas, Jacques Derrida, Martin Heidegger, Husserl, Lyotard, Caputo and many others. He evokes views of God as unforeseeable, unprogrammeable, and resistant to our 'rational' or 'religious' desires for certainty. Important themes such as the phenomenology of the persona, the meaning of the unity of God, performative truth, the divine and desire, notions of existence towards differance (Derrida), and fiduciary commitments in philosophy are taken up in a perceptive and stimulating book. It is part of a trilogy entitled 'Philosophy at the Limit' comprising three volumes. The others are On Stories (Routledge, 2002) and Strangers, Gods, and Monsters (Routledge, 2003). His other books include the extraordinary The Wake of Imagination: Ideas of Creativity in Western Culture (Hutchinson, Routledge, 1988). As a public intellectual in Ireland, Kearney was involved in drafting a number of proposals towards a Northern Irish peace agreement (in 1983, 1993 and 1995) and in speechwriting for the former Irish President, Mary Robinson, who went on to become the UN human rights commissioner.
I have had occasion before to praise CrossCurrents, the journal of the Association for Religion & Intellectual Life. The latest issue (Fall 2006) is on the theme of Religious Language: Its Uses and Misuses [pictured]. Charles Henderson kindly gave permission for Ekklesia to reproduce a fine and challenging editorial by Catherine Madsen - which we've titled Learning to converse like grown-ups. This is where she ends up, but it is worth reading the whole piece - especially for those of us involved in contestations about theology and politics, faith and reason:
There's a good review on In These Times of maverick philosopher Slavoj Zizek's latest offering, The Parallax View (Short Circuits). It's by Adam Kotsko of the University of Chicago, whose weblog is always worth a visit. Last Christmas, my friend Kevin Scully, rector of St Matthew's in Bethnal Green, gave me Zizek's The Puppet and the Dwarf: The Perverse Core of Christianity (Cambridge / MIT, 2003). "This is the kind of weird stuff Simon likes", he thought. Dead right. It's great stuff, leaving aside Zizek's odd determination to hang on to what is actually a rather outmoded philosophical materialism and give it a new kind of (much more interesting) dialectical twist. But, as with many atheist thinkers who don't just spit when it comes to anything to do with the bete noire of 'religion', Zizek has much more interesting and useful things to say about Christianity than most pedestrian theologians or apologists. He recognises that the Jesus-movement is about turning the world and its ruling assumptions upside-down, not instituting a different kind of command economy. When it's any good, anyway.
Despite a daft headline (presumably it was meant as ironic), there's an interesting review by John Carlin of the new Archbishop Desmond Tutu biography, published in The Observer. The key point is, Tutu communicates an interest in others and a vibrancy for life not centred on himself, a 'religious in-group' or the church as institution. Rather, he invites us to experience the possibility of the Gospel as a generous, capacious, inviting and domination-free adventure which treats others with dignity and respect. This, not defensive whingeing about "loss of profile" at Christmas (Archbishop Sentamu, sadly) is what the churches badly need to re-focus on. Integrity rather than self-assertion is what they have to demonstrate, in deeds as well as words. Carlin writes: