How Christian is our Present-Day Theology? pt. 2

This is the essay I just finished on Franz Overbeck. Dr. Kanterian liked it much more than my previous one on Kierkegaard and paradox. He commented on my paper that it seems as though Overbeck could be writing out of Washington in 2011. I thought I would post it here because I think it has legitimate implications for contemporary society and theology, and I would definitely not mind help dealing with these difficult issues. The problems and anxieties of modernity clearly haven't shifted all that much in 100 years. My next essay is on Nietzsche's Untimely Meditations, which deals with similar issues as Overbeck and was published at the same time as his book, so hopefully I can pull together some more themes in reference to these issues. Before showing the essay, I must express my extreme gratitude to Aaron Caudill for reading through it and helping me agonize over editing decisions. Mr. Caudill--you're the man.

How Christian is our Present-Day Theology?

The title of this essay is an amalgamation of what are some of the most ambiguous terms of the twenty-first century.  What does it mean to use “Christian” as an adjective (or any other part of speech, for that matter)? What is the “present-day” in a post-everything age? What is “theology” after the death of God? Though surely the jury is still out on such definitions (as it should be), one juror who may be of particular help is the German theologian Franz Overbeck, especially his book after which this essay is named. In this work, Overbeck strikes a pose against the task of theology in general, which he considers to be a project of “self-misunderstanding” that seeks to make the alien Gospel of Christianity palatable to worldly modes of being and thought. Although he fixates on the two driving strands of theology in his modern context (apologetic and liberal), his critique goes all the way down to the Church Fathers. He advocates, however, a recovery of primitive Christianity as a means of prophetic critique against prevailing systems and structures. Such a critique, perhaps now more than ever, is desperately necessary for the survival of whatever we might call the root of Christianity and the sanity of contemporary society. It is the task of this essay to work in a similar vein as Overbeck, using the call of Christianity to critique the theology typically branded as “Christian” in hopes that the “self-misunderstanding” of Christianity identified by Overbeck might be transfigured into a “self-understanding,” capable of assuming its prophetic task.

ARGUMENT 1: The anti-Christianity of theology.

In order to speak of Christianity as a means of prophetic critique, we must first uncover how such a critique has been stifled. It is here that Overbeck is most helpful, particularly in his historical narrative of Christianity contrasted with a more popular one. The contemporary story that finds its way most readily into the public is one in which Christianity provides the foundations of reason. On this view, it is a logically defensible and justifiable religion as a result of its having contributed so much to our tradition of rationality as well as its allegedly reasonable claims. As it comes into contact with other worldviews, a natural butting of heads will occur. Both worldviews, however, can make use of a neutral space of reason which serves as an ultimate adjudicator of the opposing sides, and the Christian knows its opposition is simply mistaken in the dialectical process. Apologetics becomes one of the most respectable feats and professions and garners praise and admiration from typical churchgoers and pastors alike, as it is the apologists who allow Christians to feel most comfortable as though they have chosen the most cohesive epistemological path.

Such a narrative is well contrasted with Overbeck.  On his view, the essential soul of Christianity is one of “world-negation,” one that is purely eschatological, with death and a radically new life as its posture toward the world. Indeed, the call of Christianity was the call of faith, rather than the call of knowledge. Overbeck specifically attacks the notion that Christianity is somehow the grounding for a move toward rational knowledge. This is in fact the moment Christianity forfeits its claims as a viable religion “for, if Christianity is considered as a religion, then it is rather the case that, like every religion, it has the most unambiguous antipathy towards rational knowledge.”[1] In Overbeck’s narrative, as Christianity progressed it found itself holding power and the need to legitimize itself resulting in appeals to Greek philosophy (more contemporarily, this includes the scientific method, historical criticism, etc.). It felt obligated to answer worldly concerns and stabilize itself within the world, rather than operate from its otherworldliness. Overbeck is worth quoting at length:

But as soon as critical thought is appealed to, we are dealing with something other than faith…for that reason too, in so far as theology brings faith into contact with rational knowledge, it is in itself and by its very nature always irreligious. And theology can only ever develop where concerns alien to religion’s own intrinsic interests emerge alongside the latter. Just how alien these concerns in fact are to religion, how opposed in particular the concerns of rational thought are to those of faith, we can see very clearly from the fact that the most essential of faith’s basic assumptions and supports are the very first ones to collapse, and to collapse most comprehensively, when submitted to rational explanations.[2]

Even the structure of the biblical canon shows Christianity’s resistance to worldly epistemologies. Overbeck provides the example of placing the Gospel of John next to the synoptics. [3] Theology, that is, the process of rationalizing and thus dressing up the faith-oriented call of Christianity to make it presentable to the world, is at odds with the Christian narrative. It is a self-misunderstanding. Instead of retaining its ability to critique the world from an external position, it finds itself constantly catering to the accepted measurements of the world, as it has “no epistemological principles of its own.”[4] It does not allow itself to be its own voice but simply borrows from other disciplines, thus establishing itself not as a religious worldview but as a struggling attempt to construct a system of thought based on a foundation of faith that is antithetical to the rationalizing project.

ARGUMENT 2: The anti-Christianity of present-day theology.

Such a self-misunderstanding has had dire consequences for the faithful in the world including abuses of Church power, ongoing secularity, self-marginalization, intentional ignorance, and, most importantly, a loss of a posture with which it might speak to the world rather than be subordinated to it. The current theological situation is perhaps the most tangible example of such a loss. Particularly interesting is how theology finds its way into the masses, and Overbeck provides continued help in his discussion of “popular theology.” Theology, suggests Overbeck, is a bit of a scholastic oddity. As a discipline, it is ridiculed and always on the defensive, constantly struggling to keep its head above water (Overbeck says it is the least popular of the disciplines[5]). Its lack of respect in the academy, however, is inversely proportional to the interest shown in it by the public.

A cursory glance at a popular bookstore or bestseller list will surely indicate that the ubiquitous struggle between apologists and their detractors has many patrons. However, Overbeck states clearly that apologists have no business in the public academic climate. He writes “What characterizes present-day apologetic theology is the utter thoughtlessness with which it has followed its opponents into the public arena.”[6] Here he begins to show most clearly his existentialist tendencies, as he criticizes the modern attempt to legitimize Christianity via proofs and rhetoric.  Natural science, for example, is useful “in the so-called struggle for existence.”[7] However, in contrast he says, “Popular academic theology can be of no use at all in this sense. For what religion can mean to people in the difficulties of life is not enhanced or strengthened by theology, but diminished and weakened.”[8] The vast array of attempts to answer the challenges of postmodernism and popular atheism have been met not by living alternative realities informed by a faith of finitude but by appealing to allegedly neutral spaces of proof, a substituting of faith for reason, which results in either an argumentative impasse or justified ridicule. The laity, confident that the apologists have legitimized faith via reason, is often sucked into the dichotomy resulting in an obsession with argument to the detriment of lived community. Any time scholarship loses touch with lived experience it commits the ultimate crime (and the “new atheists” engaging in debates with the apologists are guilty of the same critique). “Popular theology, then, blurs far too easily the dividing lines between faith and knowledge in people’s minds. That, however, is the beginning of all barbarism.”[9]

ARGUMENT 3: The Kingdom of God is not of this world.

All of this deconstruction of “theology,” however, warrants an attempt at a positive articulation of what Christianity ought to be in contrast to how it manifests in the aforementioned ways. What Overbeck has in mind when critiquing “theology” clearly cannot mean any talk of God or Christianity proper. This is evidenced by his repeated assertions of what Christianity is: something external to the world that sits in a position to critique it.  Overbeck’s driving theme is that, “world-negation is the innermost soul of Christianity”.[10] It responds to the fundamental problems of existence (birth, life and death) through an eschatological vision. This vision is not purely theoretical. Instead, Overbeck says, “The Christian religion bore witness to itself by living realities.”[11] This witness is best seen in the world-negating forces of asceticism and monasticism; indeed, even the garb and celibacy of priests embodies a vision of the future Kingdom. Christianity allows individuals to rise beyond the problems of the world, not in escapism but as a means of fully dealing with them. “The only serious grounds human beings have ever had for accepting Christianity has been their awareness of the misery of existence.”[12] The problem Christianity ran into was, as mentioned above, the attempt to return to the world after forgetting its celestial home. “Christianity only acquired a theology when it wanted to gain a foothold in a world it was supposed to have rejected.”[13] This happens especially when Christianity becomes a bedfellow to politics. Such a relationship is most easily seen in the political climate of America, which is marked by an appeal to be legitimized by Christianity, thus making Christianity subservient once again to perhaps the most worldly of demands. National exceptionalism indicates “one of the most basic convictions of Christianity is dead.”[14] There is but one King of kings, and, as Christ responds to Pilate, if his Kingdom was of this world his disciples would fight for him.[15]

ARGUMENT 4: The Kingdom of God is in your midst.

This otherworldly character, however, must never be over-emphasized to the point of ignoring earthly plights. Though Overbeck focuses primarily on this “world-negation” of Christianity, indeed its crucial theme, he viewed the faith as presenting a more eudaemonistic vision as he matured.[16] That Christ himself expresses the Kingdom as both not of this world (John 18:36) and also in our midst (Luke 17:21) is indicative of the chief character of Christianity, namely, expressing truths through contradictory binaries (life and death, love and hate, power and humility, wealth and poverty, etc.).[17] Christianity is committed to speaking into the world, having transcended it, but without conforming to it. It offers a prophetic voice able to speak to the anxieties of modernity, such as fragmentation. Overbeck writes:

There are many liberating ideas that Christianity’s view of life can still offer the contemporary world. Today, when nations are so clearly going their separate ways, when the different classes in society are threatening to become isolated from each other in an all too hostile fashion, and when even individuals reveal a disturbing indifference to any kind of community not based solely on baser interests, it is surely still of inestimable value if, over this whole ominous process of disintegration, at least the name of Christianity should hover as a kind of categorical imperative, condemning it.[18]

Not only can it condemn disintegration, but in the midst of such an “ominous process” it is able to speak of a Kingdom to come and a Kingdom that is here—something to hope for and something to participate in. It does not accommodate the world; it crafts a new one in contradistinction to it.

CONCLUSION

It is clear that theology is a self-misunderstanding. The gap between faith and knowledge is not something to be bridged but to be recognized, like the gap separating Lazarus from the rich man (Luke 16:19-31). Not until Christianity purges itself of a fixation on worldly respect will it be able to follow the steps of its Messiah.  Then it may offer a critique of empire, injustice, and selfishness by opening up a pathway to palpable redemption, both in this world and the world to come. “A religion need not be particularly concerned about the myths it has created, so long as its power to generate myths remains a living force, i.e. so long as the miraculous forces that produced its basic myth still remain operative in it.”[19]  Mystery and ambiguity are the most significant parts of faith. Mystery allows for the creative unfolding of God’s power and the possibility of a real community that may speak prophetically into the world. This community must overcome its insecurities not by appeals to apologetic theology but by the faith it builds itself on through prayer and action. This is not to say that there is no place for reason or the dialectical process. Instead it is to uphold the primacy of faith and declare, along with Anselm: faith seeks understanding.

---

[1]Franz Overbeck. How Christian is our Present-Day Theology? Trans. Martin Henry. London : T & T Clark International. 2005.  30. Emphasis in original.

[2] Ibid. 32. Emphasis in original.

[3] Ibid. 49.

[4] Ibid. 40.

[5] Ibid. 97.

[6] Ibid. 92.

[7] Ibid. 97.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Ibid. 91.

[11] Ibid. 37.

[12] Ibid. 72.

[13] Ibid. 39.

[14] Ibid. 64.

[15] John 18:36.

[16] Overbeck. How Christian…footnote 39.  xxix.

[17] The duality of the Kingdom is preserved in two strands, one within monasticism and the other in works like Augustine’s City of God.

[18] Overbeck. How Christian…113.

[19] Ibid. 41.

"How Christian is our Present-Day Theology?"

So I finally had my first tutorial with Dr. Kanterian. It was actually very interesting, to say the least. His office is nestled deep within an obscure building in Trinity College. After finding it, I sat outside the top room where I heard a tutorial going on. I then discovered every possible way to make unexpected noise which was surely disruptive including eating a loud granola bar, walking with my hard shoes to find a garbage can, having water go down "the wrong tube" causing a hellish coughing fit which I had to fight back, and (the definite classic from having backpacks and loose sneakers in mass during gradeschool) trying to figure out the best speed at which to pull velcro apart to be the least noticeable.

Of course, after about twenty minutes of eavesdropping on what sounded like a chemistry lecture, I decided this probably wasn't Dr. Kanterian's office. So I explored some more, tried a random door, and lo and behold--Dr. Kanterian.

We were actually dressed in the same outfit--cool shoes, courdoroy pants, and a sweater over a button-up shirt. The first thing I noticed was a copy of Sein und Zeit by Martin Heidegger on the ground (just light reading, of course). I then saw a wall of books including a vast array of German philosophers in German, which made perfect sense since it turns out Dr. Kanterian is actually German himself, as well as an entire shelf of Wittgenstein writings.

The tutorial itself was quite an experience. The essay question, as I mentioned here before, was "Should we believe in what is paradoxical?" Fear and Trembling was to be my guide with limited secondary material consulted. After some quick but cordial introductions, Kanterian asked me to read my essay aloud (we both had hard copies). I was initially nervous, but soon really enjoyed being able to draw out my inflection in the writing and provide some clarification on a few footnotes. He stopped me every once in a while to write comments on his copy and asked me to proceed. He never verbally made a comment during my reading other than to have me wait. At the end, he posed this scenario to me. Suppose you and I are walking on the street and we see a man who holds a knife up to his son's throat in front of us. What are we to do? This led to a lengthy discussion of the universal, the ethical, and the paradoxical. Kanterian was clearly coming from an analytic vantage point, as he often keyed in on the term "paradox" and was quite upset with Kierkegaard's usage of the term.

From Kanterian's perspective, the term paradox must be either impossible to do or impossible to talk about, neither of which Johannes de Silentio (Kierkegaard's pseudonym) affirms. I tried to state that Silentio is being playful with the term and has his eyes set on a Hegelian, Danish Christianity, in which Abraham really does seem to be totally paradoxical. After several long discussions and attempts at defining terms, we discovered we had reached an impasse. I believe we were talking passed each other, and I am still convinced that Kanterian is trying to box Silentio into a box of logic and tidy terms while I think Silentio is doing something purposefully frustrating and playful. Regardless, however, Kanterian argued with clarity and great manners and legitimately sought to help me understand what was going on. I never felt offended or that he was aggressive, and I hope he could say the same for me.

At the end of the tutorial, Kanterian asked me why I was interested in Kierkegaard. I basically summed up my first post I made on this blog. I think Kierkegaard offers an incredibly helpful hermeneutic for navigating complacent Christianity, especially as evidenced in America (Kanterian seemed shocked to find out that many American Christians affirm the death penalty). He decided I was a bit too familiar with Kierkegaard for the tutorial to be of much use and suggested a few alternatives, which leads to what I am most excited to talk about here: Franz Overbeck.

When Kanterian thought about my project, he first suggested I read Nietzsche. After some discussion he came up with another name. Franz Overbeck. Overbeck was a theologian who lived on the same floor as Nietzsche and became close friends with him. He didn't write a lot, but he did cause quite a stir. Apparently he also fed quite heavily into Karl Barth. Overbeck has been ignored largely in the English-speaking world since not much of his work is translated, but his major work, How Christian is our Present-Day Theology? was available in English at the Bodleian Library.

In the work, Overbeck really takes theology, both conservative and liberal, to task for having negated all of Christianity. And this critique is not isolated to the modern critical Protestantism but in fact extends all the way back into the Greek Christian Fathers. In Overbeck's view, Christianity is a religion of finitude--it reminds humans of the transient nature of life and it emphasizes death, always looking to the world to come. Theology, instead, tames the radical message of finitude in order for us to enjoy life here and now. As he says on page 54, "...the light that [Christianity] casts on the world to come serves not so much to illuminate the next world as to emphasize the darkness of this world." He rails against the attempts to systematize and legitimize Christianity to the rest of the world (via any proofs other than experiential ones, whether they be philosophical, historical, scientific, etc.), instead saying Christianity is a religion of "lived realities." My next essay, due Saturday, takes the title of Overbeck's book as its driving question--how Christian is our present-day theology?

So basically, I have 1500-2000 words to explain the critique of an obscure German (anti?)theologian and apply it to American Christianity. This is a challenge I will gladly accept.

I am about 90 pages into the book so far (almost half way through it), and I must say it's a wild ride but very fascinating and seemingly rewarding. I must say that I am really looking forward to finishing the text and writing the paper (I can only read it on weekdays from 9-5 in the Bodleian, so today is my forced day off).

Until then, I will close with this quote from Overbeck:

The only serious grounds human beings have ever had for accepting Christianity has been their awareness of the misery of existence. If apologetics does not find again the ability to speak as it did in the past, then it may ransack heaven and earth in search of proofs from history and natural history, but no one who can think for himself--or no one of any real sensitivity--once he has lost his faith, will be won over to belief in its myths and dogmas. (72-73)

An Accidental Protest

I don't have much to report philosophically, but I do have some potentially interesting updates on my trip.

One is to report how awesome Cornmarket Street is. It's a shopping street, so no cars drive on it, and there are many entertainers throughout. I took this video of a living statue there:

Other than that I have mostly been working my way as slowly and deliberately as possible through Fear and Trembling. This is about my third time reading it, so I want to be intentional about not missing things. I do a lot of work in Blackwell's book shop, though I will soon probably move to the Bodleian Library or New College.

The most interesting thing thus far, however, was my trip to London. I went on a walking tour of Westminster and was supposed to go to either a Churchill museum or the Globe Theatre to see All's Well that Ends Well. I got sidetracked, however, by an older gentleman dressed in a nice suit sitting next to several protest signs and tents across the street from Parliament (on the sidewalk of Parliament Square). I have to say that this was a much better way to spend my day in London.

The man, "Bunny," as he's been called since he was a boy, is 81 years old and has been coming to that place for about two days a week for the last six years. He has been a committed communist for much of his life but affirms a sort of heterodox theism. His mission? "Scrap the military" and "scrap capitalism," which he wrote on his last voting ballots.

Naturally, I found a fast friend.

But Bunny didn't start the protest. In fact, yesterday was the ten year anniversary of its creation by a man named Brian Haw. Brian is currently in Germany being treated for cancer, but until he had to leave he lived on the sidewalk spreading a message of peace, love, and justice. Since he left, others (like Bunny) have taken shifts watching the protest, and a woman named Barbara lives there 24/7. I met a lot of interesting characters there. To understand Bunny, think of the sweetest, kindest old man who attends your church. Then have him say that he is a communist and sprinkle in some "weak theology" from John D. Caputo (though he is not in the least concerned with postmodernism). He offered me some of his melted chocolate bar and several cookies. Other characters I met included Eddy Boyce, a man deeply convinced of the workings of the Illuminati and other mysterious and ominous powers of control. He is perhaps the most violent man of peace I have ever met, but I say that in a positive sense. I also met a Muslim Palestinian named Sara, who was very kind and spoke about Islam and took us to Tesco, another older couple whose names currently escape me (they were met at the end), and Barbara.

What was the most fascinating part of this protest? Well, the group of protestors represented a huge managerie of differing theologies, suspicions, and even approaches to peace. But their unifier was ultimately Brian Haw. From what I am told, Haw had always expressed his protest as an outflowing of his understanding of Christianity. Bunny said he often quoted Scripture and encouraged the others to take up their cross when harrassed by the police, bums, or drivers. The one thing that ultimately unified all of these people was their deep care for Haw. In him they saw authenticity and the Gospel. As Bunny said, we must always take up our cross and never forget the resurrection.

The day was wild. This is perhaps the strangest part. Alongside Haw's protest signs are a few other camps that, if viewed from the road, seem indistinguishable. When I asked Bunny why the others weren't at the Haw protest, he told me quite a story. Parliament Square is a large, grassy lawn surrounded by statues of major British figures like Churchill. However, when I went there the area was fenced off with a sign that apologized for the temporary inconvenience. Bunny said up until two years ago the protest was on the lawn. A group claiming to be for democracy and peace showed up one day and soon began stirring up violence and unrest. The result was moving everyone to the sidewalk and blocking off the Square. I asked how the group could have done that if they were committed to peace. He said they are "drunks and bums" hired by the police to badger and harrass the Haw protestors to get away from Parliament.

I must say that I was initially skeptical. Sometimes misunderstandings happen, and two years is a long time to nurse enmity. However, after Eddy came around, a man walked over and started trying to provoke Eddy to react (I must say that from the little I know of Eddy's vicious rhetoric, I am impressed that he managed to contain himself). Bunny asked if he was from the other group, and the man responded quite coldly. I asked him if he was committed to peace. He said yes, but had nothing to say about it and immediately began pushing Eddy around again for no reason whatsoever. Eventually, he dropped a bottle of wine on the sidewalk which caused everyone to jump. He said he was making his point and left.

It was honestly quite frightening. He was a very unpredictable individual, but one thing was clear: peace was not on the agenda. Eddy further explained to me that they will often drink in front of the protesters to make them look like drunks and bums and sometimes go to the bathroom behind the Haw tents. Of course, all of this is done right across the street from Parliament in full view of the police. Brian and Barbara have both been beaten by them.

So that's how I spent my London experience protesting the Iraq War for four hours with a communist, an anarchist (though Eddy doesn't like labels), two muslims, an older couple, and a mom with a mission (Barbara). Though personally I am still a bit unsure of some of their oppositional rhetoric and would prefer Berry's vision in "The Purpose of a Coherent Community" in The Way of Ignorance, I found them all to be incredibly hospitable, inviting, loving, and committed to peace.

This is the website to follow everything that is going on there. Please pray for peace in the world and for Brian's health as he is treated for cancer in Germany. And if you're feeling really ambitious, go there--or donate!

Bunny said he'll be back there Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of next week. I may go visit him again.

OXFORD

After a lengthy time of dormancy and intellectual growth, I have decided it is time to revisit this old thing for many reasons, not least of which is the fact that I am finally, officially studying that wonderful Dane in a tutorial at the oldest university in the English-speaking world: Oxford.

Specifically, I am studying at New College (most people are not aware that Oxford is in fact a collection of smaller more or less autonomous colleges set up similar to American government in which colleges act like states and the university like the federal government), though the name is misleading considering it was established in 1379 to train members of the clergy after the Black Death emptied the priesthood. A lot more fascinating information can be found on its Wikipedia page.

As I mentioned, I will be studying Kierkegaard. My tutor is Dr. Edward Kanterian. He is trained in both the analytic and continental traditions of philosophy (something probably best explained at a later time), which is incredibly intimidating and encouraging considering I am almost exclusively aquainted with the continental tradition.

The Oxford tutorial system is quite different from the American classroom. They work like this: you meet with your tutor once a week to discuss your subject, particularly focusing on the "Oxford essays" that you are required to write. An Oxford essay is a paper around 1500-2000 words (in my case) that adheres to a strict argumentative and formal pattern on a prompt given in the beginning of the week. For example, my first prompt is focused on Fear and Trembling and deals with the question "Should we believe in what is paradoxical?" Needless to say, I am quite excited to explore the idea, particularly with one established in the analytic tradition.

My tutorial will last four weeks. I figured this experience is probably a good one to kick off the spring emergence of my hibernating blog. I may or may not have time to update this often, considering I still have to keep up with people back home and my rigorous course work, but I am looking forward to posting papers and thoughts on here as the time goes on.

In regards to my blog more specifically, I have taken down a few things that seemed like distracting loose ends and have left some things up that I find a bit embarrassing but feel should be preserved for posterity. I hope to explain some of these changes as time goes on, specifically with reference to Marx.

Until then, here is a great quote from Kierkegaard that is spurring my essay on:

Now faith is just this paradox, that the single individual, though under the demands of the universal, is higher than the universal. If that is not faith, then Abraham is done for and faith has never existed in the world. If the ethical life is the highest and nothing incommensurable is left over, except in the sense of what is evil, then one needs no other categories than those of the philosophers. Goodbye to Abraham! But faith is just this paradox, that the single individual, though bound by the universal, is higher than the universal. As a single individual, as the particular, he stands in an absolute relation to the Absolute. The ethical is thus suspended. Faith is this paradox.

Seeing To It

As a quick side note, I have created another blog entitled Seeing To It.

The purposes of this blog are explained in it, but basically it serves as a space for reviews of books I am currently reading.

You can find it by clicking the title above.

Some Clarifications on Marx

Lately, I have been having a lot of conversations involving capitalism and its detractors. Most questions involve how I feel about Karl Marx and "Communist nations." Many people have identified me as a communist (and reasonably so, I suppose, all things considered). What I aim to do in this post is to briefly flesh out some of my current thoughts on Marxism, clarifying some issues that I have been dealing with a bit irresponsibly thus far.

First thing's first: I have already written a paper on Karl Marx and Christianity which I posted here earlier. Allow me to explain this paper a bit. The prompt involved expressing where Marx and Christianity can find amicability and where they necessarily diverge. Due to space limitations of 1,000 words, however, I chose to focus only on where the two can find common ground, as it seems this is the position that requires the most explanation and provocation (considering it is largely ignored). Some have misread this thinking I have completely bought into Marx and all that comes with him. While I don't think this necessarily flows from my paper, I can see how the one might get this impression. Hopefully this post will bring more clarity to the subject.

Let's start with a basic statement: I hate capitalism.

Let me be quick to point out, however, that this hatred did not in fact stem from Marx. As early as high school, reading the Gospels has hinted to me that money is, as Paul says, the root of all kinds of evil. Though I lacked the language and skill to fully articulate why this was so, it was clear to me that Christ advocated equality and brotherhood, the opposite of division and competition. A system that celebrates the latter, therefore, clearly cannot be the preferred "system" (if there is one) of the Prince of Peace. What Karl Marx did was articulate more specific rationality (to use his terms, an approach that was more "scientific") that targeted the root evils of capitalism which I was then able to view through the lens of Christianity.

Reading Marx, it is incredibly difficult to deny his especially intricate treatment of the subject. (Of course, taking on the economic system encouraged by the entire "developed" world requires no less.) Thus far I have heard many arguments defending capitalism, but none of their promoters seem to be aware of the debate. Marxism has been around for quite a while, and it didn't end with the death of Marx. It has survived in the minds of many philosophers throughout the last hundred years. In fact, due to the work of many contemporary philosophers (notably Michael Hardt, Antonio Negri, Slovoj Žižek, and Alain Badiou) Marxist scholarship has been renewed with great vigor. Though I wish I had the time and talent to respond here to every objection I have dealt with thus far in my conversations with others I can at least say this -- I have yet to be convinced that capitalism is a system that affirms the teachings of God. In fact, the more I talk, think, and read about the subject, the more I learn capitalism is necessarily opposed to the values of Christianity.

That being said, there are a few specific objections to Marxism that must be immediately answered, as they demonstrate a severe lack of understanding of the subject at hand.

1) What about Russia, China, Cuba, North Korea, and various other revolutions? Surely they do not affirm Christian values!

This is correct. However, the aforementioned and often-cited examples are not examples of communism. They are examples of totalitarian dictatorships. Though they have undeniably sprouted from communist roots, they are not manifestations of Marx's idea. Leninism, Maoism, etc. are not Marxism. This would be like saying the Crusades prove Christianity is a violent and terrible effort.

2) The communists are atheists! How can you advocate a philosophy pioneered by an atheist?

Well, in a certain sense you have me here. I am not allowed to be a communist. They have kicked me out. However, I have not claimed to be communist. I have only claimed to be against capitalism. As far as I have considered economic philosophy, the solution is still to be determined.

3) Jesus didn't offer a system of economics. Capitalism, though flawed, is the best we have.

This position is correct in saying Jesus offered no system of economics. However, Jesus (and other Biblical writers) did offer many words about money, materialism, and attitudes contrary to capitalism. Furthermore, this position demonstrates a lack of understanding as far as the real destruction caused by capitalism as well as a passive acceptance of the status quo, typically (at least in my experience) a result of scholastic laziness or apathy on the subject.

So to summarize and conclude, I will say this.

I am against capitalism. I also find Marx's critiques to be incredibly helpful in articulating the evils of the system. If this makes me a Marxist, then so be it. But my hatred for capitalism is not rooted in Karl Marx. It is rooted in the Scriptures, and it seems to me to fit the Biblical narrative best -- much better than exploitative economics. I am not a communist. I have yet to determine what exactly I am. I am interested in socialism, distributism, and anarchism, all of which have very prominent members of the Christian community involved from both Protestant and Catholic traditions (in fact distributism was developed primarily by Catholics).

Ultimately, I would hope I deserve the title "Christian." I seek to find out what Christian economics really is, and thus far that entails helping your neighbor, not being concerned with material things, and thinking of others before yourself.

In other words, not capitalism.

Moving Mountains: Wendell Berry, Christianity, and a Critique of Ecological Ignorance

I recently wrote this paper for a class called quantitative reasoning and thought it might be interesting to the few of you who care to read this. I don't have much of an introduction for it other than to say it's not my best work, and let's be honest -- for a class called quantitative reasoning there sure isn't a lot of that going on here (For good reason!). But it did lead me to some interesting thoughts that I hope to pursue in greater detail later. For those of you who aren't aware, my philosophy professor (Matthew Bonzo) is a Wendell Berry scholar and has published a book on him with another professor here at Cornerstone (Michael Stevens).

A few quick notes: one of the footnotes mentions a table in the appendix. That didn't translate well into the blog, so I just left it out. It's not really that necessary, and it simply fulfilled a requirement in the class.

Moving Mountains: Wendell Berry, Christianity, and a Critique of Ecological Ignorance

          When one thinks of environmental activism, many images come to mind, often in the form of parody. It is a cause picked up by hippies and college kids, a trendy avenue for teenage angst. One might not expect, however, and elderly Kentucky farmer, a former university professor of English, to throw in his lot. Wendell Berry has spent the last several decades writing about the importance of the land we live on. In his collection of essays entitled The Way of Ignorance, Berry deals with the concept of ignorance in many ways, both negative and positive, and its relationship to the land, humanity, and community. In this essay I will discuss Berry’s understanding of ignorance, humanity’s connection to the land using Berry and the Scriptures, and his comments concerning the defense of the land.

Ignorance and Arrogance

          Typically when one thinks of ignorance, one assumes a lack of knowledge. Indeed, this is the definition of the term. The way Berry uses this term exposes an irony—the assumption of endless knowledge is actually the proof of a severe lack of knowledge. Ignorance in modern America is “the predominance of supposition, in a time of great technological power, that humans either know enough already, or can learn enough soon enough, to foresee and forestall any bad consequences of their use of that power.”[1] Our advances in the areas of technology, society, etc. have given us a feeling of arrogance and invincibility. We treat the world as though we know everything about how it works in every capacity and therefore are free to exercise whatever power we like over it. This is precisely the attitude that leads to negative effects on the environment. “We have often been a destructive species, we are more destructive now than we have ever been, and this, in perfect accordance with ancient warnings, is because of our ignorant and arrogant use of knowledge.”[2] We destroy because we are not concerned with consequences or repercussions but with our own success, whatever form that may take.

Forget Mustard Seeds—Use Dynamite

          Americans are told from childhood that we are all destined for success, so long as we take hold of it and work our hardest to prosper. What we are not told is that this often requires a lot of shady practices. To succeed, we have to beat everyone and dominate anything that stands in our way, lest someone else gets our position or profit first—it is a system based on competition. This haste to rise to the top often overlooks many consequences. The American dream is an environmental nightmare. In a very blunt essay entitled “Compromise, Hell!” Berry states “Most of us are still too sane to piss in our own cistern, but we allow others to do so, and we reward them for it. We reward them so well, in fact, that those who piss in our cistern are wealthier than the rest of us.”[3] Such allowance leads to dangerous and deadly results. We are seeing this devastation tangibly, and posterity will have to make up for it.
          Though many examples could be drawn to illustrate this (and surely at this point some have already come to mind), there is one that is of particular interest to both Berry and America. America is a large consumer of coal. Prior to the 1960s, this coal was received by underground mining involving hundreds of workers. It was soon discovered, however, that it was much easier (and more cost-effective) to simply blow up the tops of mountains and sift through the debris to find coal.[4] This process is called mountaintop removal mining (MTR), and it has been going on in Kentucky for quite some time.
          Though this process is highly efficient in economic terms, its effects on local communities and ecosystems are tremendously devastating. MTR has spread so quickly that it is difficult to even track its growth. Surface-mining in general has affected over 1,600 hectares of land in the Appalachian region, and if the trend continues the amount of land affected will be greater than the mass of Rhode Island.[5] The process affects everything. Forests are cut, streams are filled in, and cracks in the earth are made that descend to massive depths.[6] This creates a dangerous place for wildlife as well as citizens who live in such chaotic environments—what used to be a haven for natural beauty has become a dangerous blast zone. The reckless pursuit of coal-oriented profit has led to the irreplaceable loss of whole mountains. Such is the result of arrogant ignorance.
          In April 2005, Wendell Berry invited writers to visit the sites where mountaintops had been removed. This helped to bring the issue to a larger audience and resulted in a book called Missing Mountains that contains an afterword by Berry. In “Compromise, Hell!” Berry writes

We are now permitting the destruction of entire mountains and entire watersheds. No war, so far, has done such extensive or such permanent damage. If we know that coal is an exhaustible resource, whereas the forests over it are with proper use inexhaustible, and that strip mining destroys the forest virtually forever, how can we permit this destruction? If we honor at all that fragile creature the topsoil, so long in the making, so miraculously made, so indispensable to all life, how can we destroy it? If we believe, as so many of us profess to do, that the Earth is God’s property and is full of His glory, how can we do harm to any part of it?[7]

This profit-hungry and environmentally apathetic attitude is not only detrimental to our own physical health and well-being but is directly spoken against in the Scriptures.
          As early as Genesis 1:26-28, we find humanity being given dominion over the earth.[8] Some Christians have interpreted this to say we have a right to do whatever we wish with the land, but, as we shall see, not only does this interpretation fail to respect the natural order of things defined by God (identified by Berry), it is repeatedly denounced in the Old and New Testaments. Although we are in charge of the earth, Psalm 24:1 (also Psalm 50:10-11) explains that the things in it belong to God. We are therefore not masters of the planet but rather stewards of it. Proverbs 12:10 and 27:23 both indicate a responsibility to care for animals, and Psalm 104:24-25 praise God for the diversity and particularity of his creation, something heavily disrespected by MTR and other environmental atrocities (it seems that this is not simply because of their usefulness to humanity). His care is not limited to animals; God’s care for plants is shown in Psalm 104:16 and Matthew 6:30. God’s creation is initially labeled “good” in Genesis, and Romans 8:22 states that creation groans and waits for its restoration. The prophets Jeremiah and Habakkuk both condemn the Israelites for neglecting the land (2:7 and 2:17, respectively). II Chronicles 36:21 highlights this by explaining the Israelites spent 70 years in captivity for neglecting the land.
          Leviticus 25 also explains the land is to have a Sabbath and be given rest. And if all this is not enough, the most compelling reason resides in Romans 1:20, wherein it is said that God reveals himself through his creation. When we destroy parts of that creation, we are destroying vehicles through which God communicates and reveals himself to us, and this is highly tragic. Truly no full understanding of the Scriptures can condone a reckless assault on the land, especially (to use Berry’s phrase) “economic aggression.”[9] Mountaintop removal (among many other destructive processes) is clearly a direct transgression not only of the Law of God but also a destruction of intimate ways of knowing him. A culture that allows this to occur is a culture that is largely uninterested in understanding the living God.
          Because America unarguably falls into this category, Christians cannot simply stand by and allow this to occur without raising questions. Indeed, our faith tradition includes the likes of the prophets of the Old Testament, individuals committed to calling into question the societies of their time through an understanding of Yahweh. Though this all sounds well and good in theory, it is certainly difficult to know where to begin to tackle the heavy and multi-faced issue of destructive ignorance. Berry has suggested several things to combat the prevailing ignorance of our time, and all are rooted in an understanding of local community.

Ignorance and Community

          The beginning of the solution lies in the preface of The Way of Ignorance. Up until now, we have dealt with the dangerous sort of ignorance—one that fails to acknowledge itself as ignorance. Berry suggests there is a healthy ignorance, however; an ignorance that does acknowledge itself and proceeds with caution. This is going in “the way” of ignorance (positively, not negatively). His message is one of humility. Knowledge is provisional—never complete (but also never empty). As he says in the preface to the book, “the way of ignorance…is to be careful, to know the limits and efficacy of our knowledge.”[10] This does not mean we are unable to act or progress or that we should revert to a primitive mode of human existence (clearly evidenced by Berry’s agrarian life). Rather, it means that in our progress and our action we must admit our connection to the land and act accordingly.
          Connectedness does not stop at the land, however. Berry promotes an understanding of our connectedness to other human beings as well. One lone, idealistic voice does not often hold much sway. Berry critiques certain environmental movements as being too negative. The movement he suggests is one concerned with the well-being of everyone.

…in so destructive an age as ours, it is possible for our sense of wrong to become an affliction...Mere opposition…blinds us to the good of the things we are trying to save. And it divides us hopelessly from our opponents who no doubt are caricaturing us while we are demonizing them. We lose, in short, the sense
of shared humanity that would permit us to say even to our worst enemies, “We are working, after all, in your interest and your children’s. Ours is a common effort for the common good. Come and join us.”[11]

It is precisely this sort of approach to ecology that advocates a Christ-centered response; a response that does not continue the competition it has spoken against but rather offers an entirely new paradigm—brotherhood and cooperation. Is not salvation offered to all, even the worst of us sinners?
          True communities understand their connectedness to each other and, by proxy, to their environments. When the actions of economic aggression effect the surrounding area of many individuals (especially noticeable in mountaintop removal which creates deep fissures on citizen-inhabited land and produces heavy noise pollution—not to mention the destruction of aesthetic, God-created beauty), it does not take long to rally the effected individuals to the resistance. Berry gives special attention to this in “Compromise, Hell!” when he explains the need to hold politicians accountable and denounce corporate arrogance.

It appears that we have fallen into the habit of compromising on issues that should not, and in fact cannot, be compromised. I have an idea that a large number of us, including even a large number of politicians, believe that it is wrong to destroy the Earth. But we have powerful political opponents who insist that an Earth-destroying economy is justified by freedom and profit. And so we compromise by agreeing to permit the destruction only of parts of the Earth, or to permit the Earth to be destroyed a little at a time – like the famous three-legged pig that was too well loved to be eaten all at once.[12]

          As Christians, we are called to be informed about the injustice done to the land we find ourselves on and respond. Not simply out of principle, but because this injustice directly correlates to our own well-being and the health of our children. We must do away with silly factional lines that color ecology blue. God has mandated our stewardship, and Wendell Berry has offered many valuable critiques and solutions that the Church would do well to listen to. It is about time we get off the couch, forget compromising, and remember our spiritual forefathers, the prophets. It is about time we call the status quo into question and hold corporations accountable for their irreverence and violence. It is about time we took the Scriptures seriously and called for something more than regular church attendance and tithing. The Christ was crucified for much more than comfortable passivity.


[1] Wendell Berry. “The Way of Ignorance.” In The Way of Ignorance. Berkeley, California: Counterpoint Press, 2005. 53.
[2] Ibid. 59.
[3]Wendell Berry. “Compromise, Hell!” In The Way of Ignorance. Berkeley, California: Counterpoint Press, 2005. 22.
[4] See table included in Apendix A.
[5]John G. Mitchell. "When Mountains Move" In National Geographic. March, 2006,.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Berry. “Compromise, Hell!” 22.
[8] The verses throughout this paragraph have been identified and commented on by former Southern Wesleyan University professor Martin LaBar in his blog Sun and Shield. http://sunandshield.blogspot.com/2006/04/environmental-stewardship-in-bible.html. (accessed April 29, 2010).
[9] Berry. “Compromise, Hell!” 24.
[10] Wendell Berry. “Preface.” In The Way of Ignorance. Berkeley, California: Counterpoint Press, 2005. x.
[11] Wendell Berry. “The Purpose of a Coherent Community.” In The Way of Ignorance. Berkeley, California: Counterpoint Press, 2005. 74.
[12] Berry. “Compromise, Hell!” 25.
[13] "Most Requested Statistics - U.S. Coal Industry" (PDF). National Mining Association. http://www.nma.org/pdf/c_most_requested.pdf. Retrieved April 29, 2010.