Socially Redeeming

I had the opportunity last week to hear an interesting exchange between Dennis Prager and Christopher Hitchens. Dennis Prager is a conservative radio commentator who has taught and written on Judaism, Russia and law. Christopher Hitchens is an author, journalist and literary critic. He is also an avowed atheist having recently published, God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything.

During this exchange, Prager is trying to get Hitchens to avoid a blanket condemnation of everything religious.

PRAGER: If you were in an American city that you were not familiar with, alone, late at night, and you couldn’t find your car in a bad neighborhood. You saw ten men walking toward you would or would you not be relieved to know that they just attended a Bible class?

HITCHENS: Not relieved. Not alarmed either necessarily, but not relieved. It’s irrelevant to me in other words. If they had just come from studying Thomas Paine’s Rights of Man, then I would feel positively cheered up. Or if they were members of the local Thomas Jefferson Society.

I have heard Prager’s question before, and until now, I thought that it was clever. Hitchens impresses me here. He handles the question deftly. Although I, unlike Hitchens, would be relieved to find out the men had attended a Bible study, I also would be relieved if they were members of the Thomas Jefferson Society. Frankly, I would even be relieved to find out that they had just attended a concert of Bach concertos, or a class on oil painting, or a lecture on thermodynamics.

Prager’s point is a modest one. Let’s allow for the tolerance of religion because it has socially redeeming value. He succeeds in making his point. However, this defense of religion on the basis of social value is ultimately a weak one. Hitchens and I can provide a multitude of other socially redeeming activities. Moreover, we can find religious activity that is not socially redeeming. What if the Bible study in question was sponsored by the Aryan Nation?

I have listened to many of the church gurus who preach that the church must meet the needs of people. We want well-adjusted, self-actualized folks who stay in school and don’t do drugs. That’s okay. The church should strive to be socially redeeming. However, we exist for deeper reasons. We confess that Jesus Christ is “the way, the truth, and the life.” If we forget that, we may have a hard time justifying our existence.

A Few Thoughts At Arlington National Cemetery

This last week, our family was on vacation in Washington D.C. On our last day, we visited Arlington National Cemetery. I’ve been to the nation’s capitol twice. Surprisingly, this was my first extended visit of the cemetery. The place was beautiful, somber and serious. My family watched the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown. The ceremony was rehearsed. Every motion was planned. There was nothing spontaneous here. Nonetheless, every moment suggested respect and honor. Echoing Abraham Lincoln‘s words about another military cemetery, the dead laid here have consecrated this ground, “far above our poor power to add or detract.”

In the recent issue of First Things, Joseph Bottum has a fascinating article entitled, “Death & Politics.” It deserves reading and rereading. The topics range widely and subtly. Bottum is trying to grasp at something deep and mysterious. He concludes…

These are dangerous waters to stir to life, but without them we lack thickness, seriousness, and purpose in our political endeavors. We create true communities only when we have shared dead. Everything else is artificial, and adventitious, and temporary, and incomplete. This is a frightening truth, for the dead we share may be those we kill instead of those for whom we grieve. But dangerous or not, it remains the human condition.

Death may hold clues to our search for meaning. Unfortunately, we don’t see it. Our modern world tries to avoid death by cheating it or hiding it away. We idolize youth and youth culture, and we are unsure how to deal with the elderly. There is even now a movement in Europe called “anonymous death” where the dead are buried in unmarked graves without ceremony. In a world where madmen try to create meaning by spilling blood, we ignore the metaphysical role of death at our peril.

It’s interesting. I accept the notion of “substitutionary atonement.” Jesus Christ died on the cross for my sins, taking my punishment. Our congregation will even sing, “There is a Fountain Filled with Blood.” Still, I can understand those who are uncomfortable with the imagery. The whole thing sounds a bit gory. Nonetheless, if death and fear of death lie at the root of the human condition, the spilled blood of Christ makes even more sense. Jesus Christ experiences what is quintessentially human (at least in its fallen state), death. His sacrifice consecrates his life. By dying on the cross and rising again, Jesus destroys death’s grip on who we are.

Albert Einstein: God and Ethics

Albert Einstein has been making a splash in the popular culture lately. I am aware of about a dozen recent references to Einstein in articles and on television and radio. I realize that Walter Isaacson has recently published a biography of the scientist, Einstein: His Life and Universe. I also understand that this biography was partly based on recently released letters. Still, I don’t know if the excitement has been generated by the book or if the book was generated by the excitement.

Recently, NPR aired an essay of Albert Einstein for “This I Believe”. Although NPR science correspondent, Robert Krulwich, read the essay, it was originally aired in Einstein’s voice in 1954.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the Mysterious — the knowledge of the existence of something unfathomable to us, the manifestation of the most profound reason coupled with the most brilliant beauty.

The words are poetic. The words also summarize the faith of the man who famously said, “God does not play dice with the universe.” However, the god of Einstein is not the God of Abraham or Jesus.

I cannot imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of his creation, or who has a will of the kind we experience in ourselves.

Einstein’s faith is rooted in natural theology. He rejects a god who is personal or who has a will of his own. Einstein sounds much like a Deist from the 18th Century. Please don’t get me wrong, I realize its inadequacy, but frankly, I prefer the Einstein’s Deism to Richard Dawkins’ atheism any day. The question remains, however, can Deism resist the devolution into atheism.

Einstein then turns from the cosmic to the human.

Man's ethical behavior should be effectively grounded on compassion, nurture and social bonds. What is moral is not the divine, but rather a purely human matter, albeit the most important of all human matters.

Ethical human behavior, according to Einstein, has nothing to do with God. It is rooted in historical circumstances. Unfortunately, there remains a problem, a “crisis“ in Einstein‘s words.

His position in society, then, is such that that which drives his ego is encouraged and developed, and that which would drive him toward other men (a weak impulse to begin with) is left to atrophy.

In other words, our society does not provide proper motivation for the love of justice or the love of our neighbor. Einstein suggests a possible solution.

It is my belief that there is only one way to eliminate these evils, namely, the establishment of a planned economy coupled with an education geared towards social goals.

When I first heard this essay, I was perplexed. The mystery of the cosmos and a “planned economy” seemed a strange mix. However, Einstein is a smart guy. He didn’t just make this up. I realize now that he was completely consistent in his argument.

Human ethics demands a foundation. If the God of the universe is unwilling to take the job, then we must do it ourselves. The state must use force to compel its citizens to do the right thing. Granted, the state uses force all the time. The state uses violence or threatens to use violence to curb people from killing, stealing, etc.

However, in the past, we also would remind people of their duty to God or the natural law. As Christians, we even believe that the Holy Spirit can generate compassion and love in a person‘s life. These softer appeals, although not universally applicable, have a greater ability to influence society.

In contrast, Einstein inadvertently rejects those quieter influences by rejecting a God who cares about human behavior. Einstein’s hope for a compassionate society can only be achieved through force. Einstein praises the morality rooted in the Judeo-Christian tradition, yet he wants the ethics without the God.

Christian vs Christ Follower

This video is part of a series made by Christ Community Church. I found the series after reading about it on a discussion board at allelon.org. I know nothing about the church except from their website, and any criticism of the videos is not directed toward the church or its members.

The video borrows the format of those PC vs. Mac advertisements. These commercials basically suggest that PCs are fuddy-duddy and Macs are cool. In this version, the fuddy-duddy is the “Christian” and the hipster is the “Christ follower”. Throughout the series of videos, there are slams on Christian bumper stickers, WWJD bracelets, the contemporary Christian music genre, dressing up for church, self-righteousness, and having faith for show. The “Christian” is a cartoon character who garners no sympathy. Frankly, I want to be the “Christ follower” who dresses casually for church, listens to U2, and has a Christian walk which requires no accoutrements. Still, the whole thing smacks of “I’m better than you.”

By calling the dweeb, “Christian,” the video is attempting to be controversial. The world is full of self-professed Christians who represent the faith sometimes better and sometimes worse. All these Christians are lumped together and labeled less than faithful. We look over at the “Christian,” and say, “Thank you, God, that I am not like this dork over here.” These are Pharisees who sat at the cool kids table in middle school.

The real lesson for each of us is that the sin of self-righteousness is always near. We think debates about Christ, the church, and the Scriptures are important ones. We hold positions that we believe are correct. Otherwise we wouldn’t hold them. Nonetheless, our rightness does not forgive our arrogance or blindness to our own sins.