Drones

I’m reminded now and then of a list of names I read last year. They were the names of children killed by unmanned aerial drones. American drones. I forced myself to read every name. I’m reminded now and then when I see kids playing in a park, or walking through town with their families. If this was Yemen or Pakistan, they could be dismembered at any moment by something from the skies. Their arms and legs, still growing, could be scattered like sticks in a storm. Snapped. Tossed.

I’m reminded now and then of the way I felt when John McCain lost the election. Thank God, I thought, no more warmongers in charge. It was a bright day for acolytes of peace. So we thought. The slaughter of children is something against which a human conscience hurls itself desperately. The subject of the slaughter of children, however, is something from which a human intellect retreats with a fearful passion. I’m reminded of the fire with which acolytes of peace railed against Rumsfeld, Cheaney and Bush. We could use a little of that fire now.

 My family and my co-workers think any talk about this subject is the raving of lunatics. Keep our shores safe, support the lesser evil, vote and vote and vote and vote they say. Someone needs to stand up for those kids. Someone needs to demand accountability and justice. Someone braver than I am; I’m reminded now and then, but that’s where it stops.

I'm not interested in Lisa Brown's vagaina (or Jase Bolger's penis)

News from my home state of Michigan...

For speaking out against new abortion legislation, (or perhaps for the manner in which they spoke out,) two State Representatives were banned from speaking on the last day of this latest session of the House of Representatives.

Rep. Barb Byrum suggested that the legislation be amended to require men to prove that their lives are in danger before receiving a vasectomy.  I'm not a fan of joke legislation, but I can accept that it is an effective way to impact public opinion.  I'm not sure I can accept the equivalency of abortion and vasectomy, but I respect Byrum's point, however imperfectly made. 

Rep. Lisa Brown's comment?  "I'm flattered you're all so interested in my vagina. But no means no."  There has been a strong reaction to the idea that Brown is being punished for using the word "vagina" but I think she is being punished for using sarcasm (which is as unprofessional as it is un-clever).  I doubt anyone is bothered by her (probably intentional) evocation of rape and sexual assault with the words "no means no".  They should be.  Comparing this legislation to rape is intellectually dishonest, and throwing around rape humorously, even if it is pointed humour employed in a serious situation, is tasteless.

That being said, Brown's comments are hardly the most offensive thing said in a legislative session, and Byrum's are even milder.  This is an obvious case of one political party censuring and silencing another.  I wish I could say that this kind of thing is shocking.  It isn't. 

What is so interesting to me about this incident is how it highlights the impossibility of approaching the abortion issue in an intellectually honest way.  I sympathize with these two lawmakers for that reason. 

I've written at length about abortion before, but I'm more twisted up now.  Please excuse the following burst of cognitive dissonance, I just have to get it out of my system:  I wish there was a way to frame this issue that didn't involve simplistic narratives depicting a two-sided war between backwoods Biblical-fundamentalists/True-Believers and enlightened/myopic cosmo-feminists.  Coercing a woman to do something isn't very Christian, and squelching the act of childbirth isn't very feminist.  No, both of those statements are absurd.  Maybe.  We can't and shouldn't legislate based on Biblical values if we wish to remain consistent with the principles of this government's secularist founders.  I suppose that also means we can't legislate based on feminist values, because those founders were also, for the most part, staunchly patriarchal.  I don't really mean that, obviously.  I believe in keeping the US government totally secular, and I certainly want to defend the reproductive rights of women, but aren't there other, less painful methods?  Isn't our willingness to accept abortion a symptom of the same values that fuel our militarism?  The idea that I have more of a right to exist than you do is the most destructive idea in the history of ideas.  Abortion must be allowed in order to keep our laws consistent with the values of our culture.  On the other hand, fuck those values.  Human life, even though I can't define exactly where it begins, should be cherished, not trivialized and devalued like it is in our selfish, irresponsible, late-capitalist cesspool of callous violence and myopic ideological crusades.  Women should be allowed to get abortions.  No one should get an abortion.  Except in cases like ectopic pregnancies, maybe incest, maybe rape.  Rape is the most evil act imaginable because it attempts to reduce a person to a disposable hunk of flesh that can be thrown away.  Abortion is rape.  No, that is a false equivalency, like abortion = vasectomy.  The government has no right to decide what people do with their bodies.  Abortion is good for society. Abortion is a violent act.  Our society's survival requires certain acts of violence. Is it worth it? What are we preserving?

That didn't feel good.  In fact, it felt terrible, just like it feels terrible every time I think about this issue.

Ideas v. People: Sketch 3

To this editorial by Warren Buffet, a trusted friend suggested that Buffet is arguing for socially-justified armed robbery.

The ultra-rich only have that money because they exploit a cycle of poverty that allows them to underpay people like me, keeping us helpless and subservient and paralyzed. That’s at least as immoral as the government collecting taxes. I don’t have a choice in either situation, unless I want to rot in a cell (not paying taxes) or in a ditch (not laboring). So, if I have to choose between two kinds of robbery, one which hurts a tiny portion of the population (who, frankly, will still be getting fat and happy anyway), and one that hurts a huge percent of the population…

If the government isn’t going to assure a decent standard of living and at-least-somewhat-equitable opportunity for every American (something that will require armed robbery), then there shouldn’t be a government at all, we should give this land back to the people from whom we stole it, and go back to Europe or whatever sewer we crawled out of. The only possible way we can justify the continued existence of the United States government, and the “United States” as a concept, is to use the considerable resources and ingenuity at our disposal to alleviate the suffering of ourselves and our neighbors. The fact that we are unwilling to do that (gridlocking ourselves with demagoguery, apathy, avarice, masturbatory materialism and petty, partisan mine’s-bigger contests) makes a case for packing up and calling it a day, or at the very least changing our name to The United States of Fuckpoorpeople

Ideas v. People: Sketch 1

If capitalism is your god, your god is dying. As they used to say in seminaries: “Any god that can be killed should be killed.”

Capitalism is failing because – as its adherents will tell you – “We didn’t do it like we’re supposed to.”

Remember, this is why Communism collapsed. No one ever did Socialism “like we’re supposed to.”

We also never did democracy, Christianity or the NFL draft “like we’re supposed to” but we need to accept compromise. If a system is so fragile that only it’s most pristine and flawless permutation can function, then that system is no good to us.

Unity

Story here

Story here

Relayed without comment:

"What moral conservatives fail to perceive is thus how, to put it in Hegelese, in fighting the dissolute liberal permissive culture, they are fighting the necessary ideological consequence of the unbridled capitalist economy that they themselves fully and passionately support." –Slavoj Zizek

Election Day

If we chose to follow Christ, we are making a commitment to provide for the needs of others even at the expense of our own comfort and liberty. It is the Christian’s responsibility to love the poor, the marginalized and the victims of violence. It’s not always easy to know how to do that, and it will not look the same in every situation, but if our best resource for helping others is some arm of government, so be it. We should be open to that possibility.

I would prefer that Christians take the initiative to alleviate poverty by choice and conviction, but this has not happened. There are people in America eating out of dumpsters while Christians (and I indict myself first of all) accumulate luxury. Until this changes, we are in no position to argue. It is true that government aid is abused by some, but this is vastly preferable to the negative consequences that could result from withholding aid just because some take advantage. Even if the majority of those receiving aid are taking advantage, it is not the Christian's place to judge or withhold. The Gospel is clear: Give to anyone who asks.

That is not to say that Christians should be taking wealth by force and redistributing. The role of the Christian is to be the person from whom wealth is taken. We should surrender these worldly treasures with a glad heart. If the government taxes your robe, give them also your cloak. The uniqueness of the Christian Gospel is most evident in the fact that it is absurd by any worldly standard and will give us no comfort or happiness, and in the fact that we are not saved by these works but will live for others anyway, even at the cost of our own lives, simply out of love. That is the decision.

Our willingness to serve and suffer gladly will potentially be an example to the rest of humanity that there is a way beyond power and coercion. We won't live to see it, but we will do what we can anyway. Or perhaps our servitude and suffering will never impact the world around us and we will apparently sacrifice for nothing, but that's the risk. Better to follow Christ into hell than to stay with Satan in paradise.

The message of Christ is not one of fairness; it is one of absolute and unconditional compassion. It is not justice; it is grace. If we understand God as a just ruler who indulges our pretenses of legal jurisprudence, condones our wars as righteous, and proposes for us a rule-based political philosophy, then Jesus is not our savior. The Gospel stands in total opposition to individualist and American values, but if we are to profess Christ, this affiliation must take precedence over all else. It may even exclude all other affiliations. Our economic philosophies and our proud politics are idols and we should busy ourselves with the destruction of our idols. Find your life and lose it, lose your life and find it.

This is not an easy commitment to make, but I hope to truly make it someday. Until then, I'm not sure I have any right to call myself a Christian. The uncomfortable irony of my life has been that I repeatedly encounter people who live radically in accordance with Christ's teachings but in no way profess to be Christians, while those who do profess to be Christians so frequently slam the door in their Messiah's face. What we do to each other we do to Christ, after all.

If you choose to vote today, please remember that.

Elephant in the Room: Abortion and Violence

Many people can not talk rationally about abortion, and I don’t blame them. It must be hard to have an open-hearted conversation with someone if you think they are oppressing women or killing babies. However, having that open-hearted conversation is required if we are to be intellectually honest people, and furthermore, that conversation is a necessary and subversive act against the manipulations of the powerful. Clearly, it is convenient for certain people if we continue to believe that abortion is a clear-cut issue of good and evil. For these people, debate over abortion has little to do with protecting the unborn or defending the autonomy of women. For these people it is a way to manipulate us to vote for one political party and not for the other political party. The internal consistency of a prescribed set of views does not matter. What matters is the acquisition of power. I find it endlessly strange when a person whose politics strongly emphasize fiscal pragmatism, even occasionally at the expense of human life, is opposed to abortion, which is, if we are to be frank, fiscally responsible. Likewise, it has always troubled me that so many otherwise “liberal” people, opposed to the death penalty and militarism, can be so comfortable with abortion, which is, if we are to be frank, an act of violence.

Much of our public conversation on abortion in the US has to do with religious arguments, primarily arguments from an ostensibly Christian standpoint. What the Christian standpoint should be, however, is not always obvious.

In an essay titled “On the Soul of the Embryo” Umberto Eco points out Thomas Aquinas’s view that an embryo is given a vegetative soul, then a sensitive soul, and finally, in a body already formed, a rational soul. A supplement to Summa Theologiae says that an embryo that dies before it is infused with a rational soul will not take part in the “resurrection of the flesh” while even those born dead will take part. The pre-rational-soul embryo is not human. Eco makes a connection to Catholicism’s reluctance to accept evolution, not because it conflicts with a literal understanding of the creation story, but because it erases the distinction between human life (possessing a rational soul) and life more generally. The position that the embryo qualifies as human life because it will eventually become human is, according to Eco, the position “once adopted by the materialist-evolutionists of the past” and a position that contends that “there is no dividing line… in the course of evolution from plants to animals to humankind.” Defending human life is a noble goal, defending ALL life is impossible unless we become motionless, and starve ourselves so as not to kill any insect or plant.

Modern believers are less likely to believe in the literal “resurrection of the flesh” believed by Aquinas, either because we no longer subscribe to his pre-modern world view or because our ideas of the afterlife are more informed by diluted Dante than any theologian. Regardless, Eco’s essay raises quite eloquently the difficulty of defining the limits of personhood in a way that allows us to defend a consistent and tenable position on human rights.

The history of Christian thought does contain a precedent for opposing abortion. “We are so forbidden to murder,” Tertullian said, “we may not even kill the fetus in the womb.” His phrasing implies that even if abortion is the mildest form of murder, Christians are still not allowed to do it. Like many early Christians, Tertullian’s opposition to abortion was a logical extension of his pacifism.

The refusal of Christians to serve in the military is not an invention of Quakers or Mennonites or Jesus-hippies protesting the Vietnam War. It is a tradition dating back to the early centuries of the Christian faith and precedent can be found in the writings of Ignatius of Antioch, Origen, and Justin Martyr. Even under the ostensibly “Christian” rule of Constantine, Bishops like Basil of Ceserea called for soldiers to be excommunicated. Athanasius (who so famously gave Arius the verbal smackdown of a lifetime at the Council of Nicaea, thus defining Christian doctrine for centuries to come) believed Christianity was inherently non-violent. Martin of Tours asked to be released from military service saying “I am Christ’s soldier; I am not allowed to fight.” When his conscientious objection was refused, he offered to stand on the front lines without a weapon. This refusal to serve had to do, in part, with a generally untrusting attitude towards the state, which was understandable considering the on-again, off-again persecution faced by Christians (a persecution which was typically met with non-resistance) as well as passages in the canonical gospels such as Christ’s command to “turn the other cheek” and his forbidding Peter to use a weapon in the Garden of Gethsemane. Before Christian pacifism buckled under the influence of the “Just War” theory of Augustine, Christians were considered bad citizens in Rome because of their refusal to serve in the military. Centuries later, Jean-Jacques Rousseau would state in “On the Social Contract” that Christians are of no use to the state. Along those lines, Christian anarchists like Leo Tolstoy have pointed out that the state is of no use to Christians. Both of these points are somewhat correct, but neither is reflected in the values of our present situation, one in which Rousseau’s vision of a diluted State-religion compatible with the best interests of the state has been fulfilled by the pop-Christianity that overlaps so greatly with the Pro-Life movement.

Not only does the Pro-life movement overlap with many pro-military sentiments, this movement is bent on changing the law, which puts the focus not on questions of love and compassion (the priorities of a Christian) but on issues of legality and power (decidedly NOT the priorities of a Christian.) Christians are to respect worldly authorities and submit to them (“Resist not an evil man”) but only God is to be obeyed, because one can not serve two masters. How should a Christian respond to abortion, then?

One of the forms of abortion to which the early Christians reacted was the act of abandoning unwanted infants to die. This is not what we are referring to when we talk about abortion, but those early Christians did not make a distinction, and the situation offers a precedent. The early Christian Church was disproportionately populated by women and orphans, abandoned babies rescued from garbage dumps and raised by the communal Christians who shared all of their property (from each according to his ability, to each according to his need, you might say…) All things considered, it wasn’t a bad life for these orphans (other than the potential for being burned alive or fed to lions on account of their faith, of course.) This was a case of people passionately sacrificing whatever they had to defend and maintain human life.

Standing outside of a clinic and hurling stones, demanding that a woman carry her child to term, give birth, and then raise that child, despite the possibility that she may be psychologically or financially incapable of doing so, is bald hypocrisy. Until we cultivate communities that offer a guarantee that all children will be cared for, we have no right to express moral outrage over abortion. In our situation, corrupted by inexcusable economic disparity (as exemplified by the public school system) and a culture founded on individualist selfishness and “poor-by-choice” Protestant-ethic mythology that blames people for their own hardships, Christians have an obligation to oppose this conventional wisdom and give everything to care for anyone in need. Anyone can say they support life, but it is only very few who will open their home to unwanted children and struggling single mothers. In fact, most people won’t even spend a Saturday volunteering.

There are people, shining examples, who are willing to make sacrifices for the life of another. They are not exploiting the abortion debate to seize power, they are not sitting in judgment, and they are not carrying signs or threatening doctors. These few distribute food and diapers to struggling parents, arrange meetings with adoption agencies, and lobby to fix the foster-care and education systems that so frequently allow children to slip through the cracks.

Human life is precious and should be defended. Human beings have a moral obligation to protect each other from violence, be it the violence of abortion, the violence of militarism, the violence of social stratification or the violence of state-sanctioned executions. Preventing the act of violence isn’t enough though. Anyone can rage against death, but supporting life, anyone’s life (the truly “pro-life” position) is a long-term project that will demand everything from us.

Freedom is Slavery and Weakness is Strength

Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:5-8, New American Standard Translation)

This passage, from Paul’s letter to the Philippians, is believed to be quoted from a first-century hymn. “Emptied” is the Greek word “kenoō” which denotes self-abnegation and sacrifice.

In some translations, “bond-servant” is translated as “slave”. What’s troubling is the fact that Christ’s “taking the form of a slave” is so directly related to his “being made in the likeness of men.” I don’t think Paul is suggesting that slavery is our natural human state, though. Christ is (among other things) the perfect human, not the natural human. This means that submission, being like a slave, is something we are to strive for to achieve like-mindedness with Christ.

But choosing to be like a slave is even more upsetting than discovering that slavery is our natural state. I’m the product of an American youth, which means that submission is something I’ll accept only for a little while, until my personal Easter comes in the form of self-salvation in revolution and rebellion. Luke Skywalker, Patrick Henry, and all that.

Voluntary submission, on the other hand, is either the expression of a Saint’s ascetic disposition, (in which case it has very little to do with me,) or plain perversity; social and political masochism and the irresponsible deferment of my civic duty in favor of a disgusting, self-debasing quietism.

This is partly true: the way of Christ is plainly perverse by almost any widely accepted standard. But this perverse self-debasement is anything but the deferment of civic duty. The choice between political engagement and kenotic submission is a false choice.

Submission is a subversive act. The submissive refuses to seize or exercise power, and refutes the popular myth that pursuing power is a high and noble pursuit. The submissive offers a dramatic example of what happens when the powerful are not restrained by a fear that their victims will retaliate, allowing the oppressor to publicly vilify himself. The submissive offers a strange new approach to power structures, a loving response so bizarre that it can’t be ignored, and so counter-intuitive that it has the potential to change people’s hearts.

In the gospels, Jesus has no political or social capital. He has no legal authority and does not participate in the guerilla warfare of the Zealots. He is an innocent and virtuous man when he is executed, and by going to his death without a fight, he proves and exposes the moral posturing of the powerful and pious. He prays for his persecutors, not only demonstrating that the way of life he taught was actually livable, but also demonstrating a profound love for the misguided people who possess political power. That profound love has lasted for centuries in the collective imaginations of millions.

We are told in the Gospel that the greatest expression of love is laying down life for a friend. And we are also told that while anyone can love their friends, we should even love our enemies. Should we lay down our lives for our enemies?

If we do, we will not escape our Coliseums and crosses. What will happen to us will not be pleasant or pretty, but we will offer a dramatic example that is hard to ignore. It’s easy to hate tyrants. Everybody hates tyrants. But what will people make of those odd women and men who despise tyranny but love the tyrants? With this vivid example burned into our collective imagination, how can hatred be a tenable option? The impulse to kill for our liberty (an impulse which tends to annihilate the liberty of others) is obsolete. Our revolutions, which so frequently offer only temporary relief from oppression, are exposed as transitory.

This sounds pretty unrealistic, but we might as well give it a shot. What have we to lose? Our lives? The lives of a few measly Christians seems like a pretty small price to pay for even the possibility that humanity can abandon this trajectory of self-destruction.

Of course, a charge of conservatism can be raised here. Or a charge of pusillanimousness. To the former I’ll say that this kenotic submission has been so rarely attempted that is radical by definition. To the latter charge I will say that it takes some serious guts to willfully take the form of a slave.

There's a catch: If every human being submits in this way, it would mean ruin for everyone outise the tyrant's palace.

This kenotic ethic is a special obligation for Christians. Other people will fill other roles. Of course, this means that it is absolutely necessary that there be engaged citizens who are not Christians. And so the evangelical impulse must be abandoned.

Anna Mercedes has written an essay (anthologized in The Sleeping Giant Has Awoken) called “A Christian Politics of Vulnerability” that extends the implications of kenotic life into the realm of doctrine:

If Christians are to be in continuity with the kenotic life of God…we will have to empty ourselves even of our grasp on the one incarnation of Christ in Jesus. Our own doctrines will need to reflect an ontology of weakening; we will need to become comfortable with a loosened grasp on truth… Christians immersed in a politics of vulnerability are never able to arrive at one permanent truth claim about God or faith, nor are they able to make one steadfast political claim based on their theology. (The Sleeping Giant Has Awoken, pages 47-49)

Now, if the True Believers in American exceptionalism (welded as it is to American Christianity, sadly) shudder and recoil from submission, this universalism will give them one hell of a migraine.

Jacques Ellul once wrote that Christians are not people to whom a special reward is given, Christians are people to whom an extra responsibility is given. Following Christ hurts. If it doesn’t hurt, we’re doing it wrong.

Loosing our grasp on truth is painful, but maybe we have to lose our doctrine, like our lives, in order to find it.