Archives For Bin Ladin

You should catch up on Part One and Part Two.

These questions begged a much bigger one:

Could the Church be involved in politics at all?

Here we were, responding to a jihad by declaring a crusade. I began to wonder how any of the words that Jesus ever said, especially in key teachings of the Sermon on the Mount that could warrant even the most just war.  Moreover, could a Christian even be an American (or a Brit or Afghani or Brazilian)?  What if we went beyond politics to lifestyles?  Could a Christian pursue the American dream?  Buy products produced unethically?  Eat food slaughtered violently or grown in a way that endangers the environment?  Prize safety and good neighborhoods over proximity to the poor?

These are questions I still struggle with today.  On one hand, I believe that there is value in cultural engagement.  The church cannot abandon culture.  Yet history and experience teach us that in our attempts at relevance, we quickly take up the morays of the culture, and become something much less than the Church.

The Anabaptist movement, for centuries, has stood for unpopular things.  They were martyred for their belief that an adult chooses their faith, not their family or the State.  Even today, their mennonite and amish and christoanarchist descendants fight against the constant creep of civic religion. During Vietnam, Mennonite Conscientious Objectors were sent to staff psychiatric hospitals.  Their humanizing treatment of the mentally ill has led to many advances in patient care.

When I asked an mennonite preacher what their hermeneutic was, he responded “The Sermon on the Mount.”  As a person wanting to live like Christ in the midst of the longest war in American history, their way of life just makes sense.

My dream is to be a part of a community shaped by the story and teachings of Christ.  The Church does this both in spite of the world, and simultaneously for the world.  This may mean abandoning the comfort and structures that America has to offer, and living as a stranger in one’s own land.  It may be that this countercultural, underground radical community grounded in obedience to the teachings of Christ is the best hope of us, our churches, and our neighborhood. We can thank Osama bin Ladin for teaching us.

Part 3

I have never understood how the Church and the Republican Party became synonymous.  The Religious Right was nothing new, but it seemed like the culture wars reached a new high during the 2000 election.  I often felt alone when I tried to explain why I believe that single issue voting does not make you a better follower of Jesus.  The blurred lines between pop-Christianity and the Bush administration, as well as the enormous flag greeting us every morning, the imminent wars produced a new message: Being a good Christian meant supporting your country in war.

This began to churn something inside me.  I could see why understand dismantling Afghanistan, but chasing WMDs in Iraq was harder.  It seemed that whenever such concerns being voiced, it resulted in one’s patriotism, and likewise their faith, being called into question.

My graduate studies in theology began in the midst of the 2004 election.  There were wars of two fronts.  About the time John Kerry was being demonized for his participation in anti-war protests, I was taking an ethics class.

We read Reinhold Neibuhr, the father of modern Just War theory.  Then we read Stanley Hauerwas’ The Peaceable Kingdom. For the first time I encountered a way of being the church, in the midst of a war torn world, that seemed completely in line with the way of Jesus.

This wasn’t about individual morality or proper ecclesiological structure.  It was a vision that

the church existed to stand with, and alongside the lost world,

as an inviting example

of what the universe would look like when the Kingdom of God was complete.

This was a different way to answer the questions that had flared up since bin Ladin had interrupted our lives.  What if, instead of railing against the prevailing culture, we lived lives that showed how it was lacking? We could respond to abortion by setting an example in adoption.  We could respond to marriage and sexuality discussions by working on our own marriages and standing in contrast to the American divorce epidemic.  We could respond to violence by addressing the root issues of hatred and inequity.

This question begged a much bigger one:

Could the Church be involved in politics at all?

(Because of the declarative and perhaps even controversial nature of this post, I’ve sat on it for a few weeks.  I hope you’ll read it in its entirety, and in it’s spirit of seeking how Christ-followers are to live in a time of war.)

In the midst of the news of the death of bin Ladin was the story of the reactions of the millennials.  Across the country, college students who have never known anything but an America at war with a shadowy religious army exploded into celebration.

My parents, surprised by the stories of young people taking to the streets in celebration, asked if bin Ladin’s death meant anything to me.  I was a sophomore at at my small Christian college, on my way to chapel, when I overheard people talking about the first tower falling.  I hadn’t really thought about the question.  So, after a long pause, I responded:

“Bin Ladin is why I’m an Anabaptist.”

Now to be fair, I’m probably jumping the gun in describing myself as an Anabaptist.  I neither grew up in an Amish or Mennonite church, nor have I really wrestled with the writings of theologians like Yoder (it’s on my list, I promise.)  However, I always have felt a sense of camaraderie with the anti-mustache peace lovers.  The tradition I grew up in placed a high value on adult baptism, and even stood against the Civil War.  I remember family members saying they would have rather gone to Canada before he than be drafted.  So Third Way thinking has always been in my blood.

A day or so after September 11, a giant American flag was draped across the back wall of the stage of our chapel.  Everyday, when we came to chapel for a time of worship, the flag filled most of our vision.  It remained there for months to come, and made frequent appearances in the coming years.

Part 2

The tweets that filled my feed after the death of Bin Ladin were pretty shocking.  There were a few who rejoiced with the “USA! USA!” cheering.  Mostly, there were Christians who cherry picked scripture verses as to express their views.  While many of them spoke of the death of Bin Ladin as the justice of God, the majority seemed to express a general sense of disappointment and a reminder to “love your enemies.” (sidenote: this may say more about who I hang out with than the general tenor of American Christians.)

As first I was excited.  Raised by a reluctant pacifist and wrecked in grad school by the neo-anabaptist writings of Stanley Hauerwas, I spent the Bush years growing increasingly uncomfortable with the inter-relation between American militarism and the Christian right.  More and more I feel the need to distance myself from what some have called the “Christian Military Industrial Complex.”  Could it be that all my Facebook friends felt the same?

I hope so.

There is an integrity problem that faces those of us who wish to see the Church act more in line with the justice teachings of the Hebrew prophets and the peace teachings of Christ.  The problem is, we have failed to differentiate ourselves from the systems that help catalyze many of our modern problems.

In other words neither I, nor many of my Facebook friends, have lived through the situations that cause many of the problems our culture is wrestling with.

Defeating water scarcity, and the socio-political problems it creates is going to take more than raising money to build wells in Africa, although that’s part of it.

Defeating racial inequalities is going to take more putting an African American in the worship team, although it’s not a bad idea.

Defeating the disaster of poor stewardship of our planet is going to take more than buying organic, although it’s a good idea.

These are difficult problems.  There is a danger in the current popularity of the justice conversation, and the growing pacifism conversation: we might be satisfied with just talking about the problem. Nothing this complex can be solved in a blog post, however I think there is one principle of Jesus that can help us get to the root of the issue.

When Jesus wanted to solve the problems of mankind, he showed up.  As Eugene Peterson says, “the Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.”

I fear that our responses to Bin Ladin’s death are reveal a desire to see the church become peace-oriented.  At least, in 140 characters or less. (and yes, I know the hypocrisy of calling this out on a blog….)  It’s just going to take a lot more work.

Any attempt to solve the deep problems of our culture can only grow out of an incarnational understanding of the issue at hand.

But what does that look like?  What does incarnation look like in:

– The deep misunderstanding and hatred between Muslims and Christians?

– The sense of sometimes self loathing experienced by rejected and closeted homosexuals?

– The lack of education in the third world?

– The lack of access to healthy food in urban America?

– The staggering divorce rates and co-habitation rates of modern America?