BUY NOTHING DAY

The Global "Buy Nothing Day" is here again (official website here). But does it truly help the cause that it aims to address?

The Occupy Wall St. movement is rallying the troops to participate in an international day of non-consumption called "Buy Nothing Day." Ad Busters, the Canadian-based anti-consumerist magazine (who, by the way, initiated the Occupy movement) is also plugging Buy Nothing Day.

On the surface, BND is an exciting and creative way to live out the message of Jesus: it is an act of fasting and an explicit "No" to mammon. Jesus invites his followers to both of these practices. In Matt. 6:24 Jesus teaches, "You cannot serve God and mammon," (mammon is an Aramaic word that means "money, wealth, greed"). Jesus' words resonate exceptionally well with the principle motivation behind Buy Nothing Day. (Highly recommend this fantastic essay on mammon as a spiritual reality)

Beneath the surface, however, I am concerned with the ramifications of BND. Most specifically, I worry that a "successful" BND will only hurt the very people the Occupy movement desires to help. When "Black Friday" profits plummet, who takes the hit? The employees, not the CEOs. If seasonal sales are low, then companies are less likely to hire those extra holiday helpers. In short, my concern is that this all or nothing approach only hurts the middle class.

This is the catch 22 of our economy and, frankly, I think it is evil. We are told that the only way out of debt is to spend more. The only way to economic recovery is to shop! Do you remember President Bush's advice after 9/11? He told America to go shopping!

So... what do we do? As a frugal, graduate student who couldn't care less about holiday shopping, I am no bank of creative solutions. However, it seems to me that instead of quitting the game of consumerism altogether, we need to spend our money in smart, ethically responsible ways.

This means shopping at clothing stores like these rather than GAP or Banana Republic. It means shopping at NMC Toys rather than Five Below! There are countless companies trying to participate ethically in our capitalistic economy. Check out the Buyer's Guide on the website EthicalConsumer.org. Or try EthicalShopping.com.

As far as I'm concerned, BND is a great idea. But in the long run, I'm worried that utter non-consumption will only hurt the middle class and motivate company execs to seek alternative ways to maximize profit.

By playing the consumption game ethically perhaps we can transform things from the inside out (like yeast?).

***Hurry Up, We're Dreaming***

Remember how excited you were when you first saw the preview for Spike Jone's Where the Wild Things Are? The imagination. The childlike adventure. The pure and joyful fantasy. The movie promised to take us back to the mystical worlds of our childhood.

Well now you can have it in audio (and superior) format. Like Jone's film, M83's new album Midnight City is a fanciful voyage back to childhood. The 22-track album sweeps listeners away to that world beyond where we all use to dream and play.

Here's a little taste...

M83 — Intro (feat. Zola Jesus) by tiago_custodio

We didn’t need a story, we didn’t need a real world
We just had to keep walking
And we became the stories, we became the places
We were the lights, the deserts, the faraway worlds
We were you before you even existed

Carry on, carry on, carry on
And after us the flood
Carry on, carry on, carry on
Our silver horn it leads the way
Banners of gold shine
In the cold, in the cold, in the cold
Footprints of snow
Blind from the road
Hail!

We carry on, carry on
Follow us, we are one
The battle’s fought, the deed is done
Our silver hum runs deep and strong
Hand to the heart, lips to the horn
Hand on my breast, I’ll keep you warm
Hail!

The Nicodemus Approach to Homosexuality

Allow me to show my cards from the outset: I am Christian, heterosexual, and I won't be taking an explicit side on the issue of homosexuality in this post. This issue is far too complex for 600 words. What I do intend, however, is to assert that nobody should hold a strong opinion on homosexuality until s/he has personally interacted with homosexuals. I call this the "Nicodemus Approach."

I grew up in a fairly conservative evangelical community where nobody talked about homosexuality except when sharply condemning it. More accurately, I grew up in a community where nobody knew any homosexuals.* The issue did not concern specific human beings in our community; rather, it was about "them," those hypothetical people "out there." Accordingly, I learned that it was okay to hold conclusive opinions about matters that I knew little about and/or had never encountered in person.

Over the past four years, however, I have learned a different approach. During my four years in Philadelphia I have worked closely with a homosexual youth pastor; was mentored by a brilliant, homosexual chaplain supervisor; and walked alongside a handful of gay peers in Christian ministry. Unlike the former method of judging what I do not know, I came face to face with people instead of ideas. Enter Nicodemus.

Nicodemus was one of the Pharisees and a member of the religious elite. He belonged to a community that saw Jesus as a sinner because Jesus did things that were contrary to what was written in Hebrew Scripture (John 4:9; 5:16; 9:16). But John's portrayal of Nicodemus is fascinating: instead of remaining in his comfortable, homogeneous community, Nicodemus goes to encounter the man who had stirred up controversy (John 3:1-15). Then, at the end of chapter seven we meet Nicodemus a second time (7:45-52). That Nicodemus reappears in the Gospel is one thing; but he does not return as a static character. Nicodemus advocates for Jesus (v.51)! Here we see the impact of Nicodemus’ face-to-face encounter with Jesus.

We meet Nicodemus a third and final time at the foot of the cross. When all but one of Jesus' disciples had abandoned him, who is there? Nicodemus. The Pharisee who risked his religious identity to meet Jesus in person is the man that is forever remembered for laying our Lord to rest.

For me, this confirms the absolute necessity of personal encounter when forming opinions toward people. It is such a simple method, yet very hard to practice. However, I think that both Nicodemus and, more obviously, Jesus demonstrate this method clearly. Furthermore, the kind of opinion about which I am writing is specifically a strong opinion. I am quite aware that everyone will have an opinion no matter what; for that is natural. My challenge is to go and test your opinion (Lamentations 3:40).

I can imagine a reader asking, "Should we also not take a stand against abortion or capital punishment if we've never personally experienced it?" No, take your stand; for this misses my point. We must be careful to distinguish between acts/events and people. My point is that we ought to take an approach to homosexuality that takes seriously the fact that, in truth, there is no such thing as homosexuality the concept. There is only the homosexual - the person.

* Statistically this statement cannot be true. There must have been homosexuals in that community. However, the issue is that a community can create a statistically false reality (i.e. no homosexuals in a community) through pretense and silence.

L I G H T

When I see this video I see the visions of Jesus and Zechariah coming together.

Zechariah's vision of the Saviour Child was this: "You, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways... to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death." (Luke 1:76,79a)

Jesus' vision for humankind was this: "He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." (Luke 4:18-19)

Beautiful Waves. Beautiful Stories. Beautiful Theology.

I was re-watching the famous "Double Split" experiment on YouTube tonight (for about the tenth time!) and I later found myself pondering the mystery and the beauty of the event. If you have never seen the experiment, watch it and then return to this post.

In the experiment physicists fire electrons toward two rectangular holes in a wall to see what kind of pattern will be produced on the opposite side. The problem is that electrons behave as both particle and waves. Thus, depending on "who's watching," the electrons may produce a particle-like pattern, or they may produce a wave-like pattern.

As one can see in the video clip, the wave-like pattern is produced when intricate supervision is not happening. However, when the experiment is closely observed so that physicists might "figure it out," the electrons produce the particle pattern.

This got me to thinking about the difference between particles and waves as an analogy for the difference between propositional statements and stories. I was working on a statement about my Christology tonight and I realized as I was writing it that I did not want to simply list statements about Jesus; I wanted to write a narrative of Jesus' life. That, I thought, is how one comes to know Jesus; not through propositional statements but through story.

Propositional statements are like the scientist who wishes to observe the Double Split experiment up close so as to figure it out and possess the truth. The problem: that makes things boring and less beautiful. In fact, quantum physics suggests that reality actually behaves differently under these circumstances.

But when mystery is embraced reality creates beautiful wave-like patterns and shares more light! I wonder if this too can be said of theology. Perhaps what we need is a bit more comfort with mystery and stories rather than propositions and doctrine.

Who's Afraid of Postmodernism? Book Review

Are you afraid of postmodernism? Well do not fear, James Smith is here. In his book Who's Afraid of Postmodernism? Taking Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault to Church James K. A. Smith presents a clear, concise introduction to postmodern philosophies and their ramifications for the Christian church. This is the best book on postmodernism/church that I have encountered.

This short work consists of five chapters, the last being the most substantive. Hence, I will devote the most space to it. Smith introduces each chapter with a film that illustrates major points regarding the chapter's content. I found his exposition of films both entertaining and beneficial for grasping various concepts (not to mention it made me want to watch Whale Rider again - great film). In the three middle chapters Smith dialogues with one of the three philosophers, providing good primary source quotations.

After a broad introductory chapter Smith delves into Derrida's claim, "There is nothing outside the text." Here Smith's goal is to unpack the "bumper-sticker" interpretation of Derrida's quote and better understand what exactly the Frenchman meant. Smith explains that Derrida essentially meant that "everything is interpretation" (42). Smith argues that this liberates Christians from having to prove Christian claims to be universally known by all people, at all times, in all places (48). Instead, the church may embrace a confessional theology in which the interpreting community determines meaning (53, see review of last chapter below).

In chapter three Smith corrects a bumper-sticker understanding of Lyotard's claim that postmodernism is the rejection of metanarratives. This claim seems to oppose the very nature of the church whose theology claims a creator God guiding the cosmos to a telos. However, this is not, in fact, what Lyotard meant. Rather, Smith explains Lyotard's definitiion of metanarrative as "universal discourses of legitmation that mask their own particularly; that is, metanarratives deny their narrative ground even as they proceeed on it as a basis," (69). Examples: modern scientific knowledge, Darwinism, capitalism. Thus, the narrative of Scripture, which does not attempt to legitimate itself "by an appeal to universal, autonomous reason but rather by an appeal to faith (or, to translate, myth or narrative)" is not considered a metanarrative by Lyotard's - or postmodernism's - standards (68). Smith correctly notes a beautiful ramification for the church: narrative does not attempt to prove its claims, but rather proclaims them within a story.

Smith's last philosophical sparring partner is Michael Foucault (chapter four). Again Smith attempts to situate a bumper-sticker understanding of Foucault. Here he tackles Foucault's claim that "power is knowledge." Essentially, Foucault's philosophy provides a comprehensive description of modern disciplinary systems (tracking from 18th century to modern day). In the end Smith understands Foucault to assert that "social institutions and relationships are necessarily constructed on the basis of power relations," (100). Smith paints Foucault as a "closeted Enlightenment thinker" (97) because he is so often understood as a "protest thinker" who champions the rights of the individual. As for the church, Smith would like to see the church reject the modernist notion of the autonomous individual and embrace the disciplinary form of the gospel (viz. Christ's Lordship). For me, this was the most difficult chapter because Foucault's philosophy is quite dense. But the concept of discipline is something that anyone who claims to be a disciple ought to explore.

In the last chapter titled "Applied Radical Orthodoxy" Smith offers a number of substantive thoughts in response (too much to cover here). Smith rightly argues postmodernism allows for "a robust confessional theology and ecclesiology that unapologetically reclaims premodern practices in and for a postmodern culture," (116). What I appreciate the most in this chapter is Smith's recovery of premodern epistemology. I think that this is truly the area where postmodernism offers the church a way out of modernity's epistemic prison and back into the movement of confessing Christ.

Specifically, Smith shrewdly points out that many postmoderns, including Derrida and Caputo, ironically endorse a Cartesian (modern) epistemology when they claim that we cannot know, we can only believe. The irony is that such a view equates knowledge with indubitable certainty (omniscience); faith is therefore located in opposition to knowledge (a Cartesian and Enlightenment definition). We cannot say we know things about God with certainty, we can only believe. What results is a "religion without religion" (119).

But what Derrida and Lyotard (see also Thomas Khun, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions) have shown is that all knowledge is uncertain and depends upon a degree of faith. Smith refers to pre-Cartesian epistemology that correctly distinguished between comprehending God and knowing God. The postmodern church may relinquish claims of absolute knowledge without giving up knowing altogether.

Ultimately Smith contends for a "logic of incarnation" (122) that allows the Christian church to resist the "modern notion of an ahistorical, a-geographical, transcendental religion." Instead, the Christian church may affirm and embody a particular, finite narrative; one that confesses that "God became flesh at a particular time ("under Pontius Pilate") and in a particular place ("born of the Virgin Mary")," (122).

This, I believe, frees the Christian church from the epistemic idols of modernity and allows us to once again embrace a confessional theology. And, ultimately, Smith's "Radical Orthodoxy" offers a solid middle ground between modern and postmodern extremes.

My only reservation about Smith's "Radical Orthodoxy" is the primacy he gives to specific revelation. I agree with him that God's revelation in Christ and Scripture should act as the governing revelation for the Christian community (126), but Smith offers no concrete suggestions as to what this might look like. My issue is that it is precisely the interpreting community (historical and contemporary) who makes sense of Gods' revelation in Christ and Scripture. What, then, is the role of the community? I imagine that Smith expands on this in his Introducing Radical Orthodoxy: Mapping a Post-secular Theology (2004).

As I've said throughout, this book is a fantastic introductory read. It is easy to read, entertaining, and provides a substantial amount of primary source quotations that allowed me to "get to know" Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault a bit. Whether or not you're just starting out in studies of postmodernism or you've been exploring for years, this book is a worthwhile read.