Anarchism, Human Nature, and the Rebellion of Christ

In James Marshall’s book Demanding the Impossible: A History of Anarchism, the author utilizes a Taoist view of human nature to summarize anarchist thinking in regard to government:

“Horses live on dry land, eat grass and drink water. When pleased, they rub necks together. When angry, they turn round and kick up their heels at each other. Thus far only do their natural dispositions carry them. But bridled and bitted, with a plate of metal on their foreheads, they learn to cast vicious looks, to turn the head to bite, to resist, to get the bit out of the mouth or the bridle into it. And their natures become depraved.” – Chuang Tzu

Some religions, such as Buddhism and Islam, carry a similar view of a predisposition to goodness within humanity; though with different approaches to life (Islam certainly has no trouble with written law). Many religions place emphasis on human action to achieve the goal of the religion in question (Nirvana, repairing a broken world, devotion to Allah, etc).

It’s hard to view Christianity in this light, given Jesus’ position as God incarnate, as well as the writings of the apostle Paul which Reformers hold high as the proof texts for justification by faith alone (and which are hotly debated in and of themselves). Even amongst more “liberal” theologians, such as the Jesus Seminar, there’s a sense of respect for government and hierarchy in the existing church in spite of their views of Jesus as a peasant revolutionary.

In spite of this, one cannot deny the rebellious nature of the Gospels, the stories of the Acts of the Apostles, and the epistles sent to different churches from Paul, Peter, and John. All of them are subversive in content and tone, not encouraging armed rebellion, but a new way of living that renders oppressive systems such as slavery null and void. They’re direct affronts to any imperial sanction without directly opposing the empire itself (at least not all the time). Every time a Christian said “Jesus is Lord,” in that time period, it was also a way of saying Caesar was not.

The way of living presented in the Bible, of partnering with the living God to usher in His kingdom on Earth, isn’t accomplished through the imposition of arbitrary rules (the glaring example of Christendom’s failure to achieve a true kingdom of God stands out clearly here) or an uprising of the masses (John 18:36), but through a pattern of voluntary living accomplished through natural means as a result of the movement of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:42-45). God works within the marginalized and oppressed to bring about not just pop individual spirituality, but true social change.

Some authors have recognized this in the past and in present day, among them Leo Tolstoy, Dorothy Day, Ammon Hennacy, Shane Claiborne, and Jacques Ellul. The anarchist community at large certainly recognizes this, though it’s often with a dismissive tone, as if to say, “Yes, their writings suit my cause, but because they are Christian, I can’t take them completely seriously.” The idea of a deity having to show human beings how to live is offensive to many anarchists, as they view religious hierarchy as reflective of coercive government, the only difference being the presence of a supernatural deity.

I don’t know if I identify as an anarchist. Not entirely, anyways. Being a Christian, I tend to think that people aren’t so great at getting along together without some sort of divine help or rule, but I think that, with that divine help, a government could become unnecessary, even in this lifetime. The living God breathes life into what was once dead, and makes possible that which is even unthinkable, including the absence of a ruling body.

Why I Read Theology

When I was in my freshman year at VFCC, I shared an apartment with six other young men, two of whom were upperclassmen. One of them, whose name was Matt, turned out to be one of the most influential individuals in my life to date, and he was only in it for a semester, really (though we did, and still do, hang out once in awhile).  Anyway, Matt and I were shooting the breeze one day about predestination (yes, people do that at Christian colleges), and he asked me what my major was.  At the time, it was youth ministry, and upon hearing that, Matt told me, “Dude, you need to be studying theology.”  Not long after that day, I changed my major, and in doing so found what I believe to be my calling (ironically, I volunteer as a youth leader at Middletown Church of God now).

For the next seven semesters, I always had some theology book in my bag, whether for a class or for my own reading.  I still can’t get enough of theology, and being out of school made me hunger all the more for it, which led to me exploring all manner of disciplines under the theological umbrella, from the liberals to the conservatives (theologians tend to move on the liberal-conservative spectrum and get annoyed when you fall somewhere in the middle or off center), and my exploration is just beginning. (Wolfhart Pannenberg is on my Christmas list). Theology has brought me to new understandings of what it means to be a Christian and who/what God actually is.

Aside from the above nerd-out, here’s the reasons I read theology.

1) It’s pretty much required. Deep, deep exploration of one’s faith, the men and women who started it, and the men and women who carried on from their is something I think every Christian NEEDS to do as they grow and mature, and I don’t mean picking up a Christian inspirational book every couple months just to make yourself feel better. Many Christians never make it much beyond books like Wild at Heart, Battlefield of the Mind, or I Kissed Dating Goodbye, if they’re younger.  While it helped me majorly to go to a Christian college, innumerable writings, videos, podcasts, and audio clips exist out there that do more than just make Christians feel good about being Christian, but that challenge them and help them mature by giving them solid food to consume, rather than just baby food.  Some men and women claim to have only read the Bible, and I’d like to think that that’s fine, but there’s a lot of folks who read the same Bible I do who came/come to vastly different conclusions every day, some that can be pretty destructive.  You don’t have to go read Barth’s Church Dogmatics right away or anything, but pursuing a faith that goes beyond your emotions is a must.

2) Every theologian views Scripture through a lens carved by environment and study. For some, this is a bad thing, and often becomes the scapegoat for disunity and argument in the church, but I’ve come to see it as a good thing within reason.  A good friend of mine is of the Reformed tradition in a big way, and I can tell you right now we don’t see eye to eye on many things, but the fact that we call on the same God each day unites us, and I’m proud to say we each were a part of each others weddings (he was one of my groomsman; I DJed his). The fact that we don’t meet up on some of the particulars doesn’t matter; he’s still my brother in Christ.  We’re just looking at the same Source of light from different angles.  Do I think every theologian is looking at the same Source of light as I am? Well, not always. I tend to disagree sharply with some of the liberal theologians, or the members of the Jesus Seminar, but would I still honor them for their work? Absolutely.  They didn’t come to their conclusions in a vacuum, and neither did I.  Respect and honor amongst theologians is one of the things that makes theology great.  It’s when it’s not there that we have problems.

3) On the bitter side of this relationship, I made my bed with theology and have to lie in it.  Don’t get me wrong, I love this stuff, but sometimes, I think to myself, “What is WRONG with me? Why on earth did I pick this as a career path?”  The answer: I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.  Seriously, there’s just so much wonderfulness about plumbing the depths of Scripture, the Early Church, and the traditions birthed from it that I couldn’t imagine a better place for me to explore and homebrew my faith.  I am a theology nerd to the core.

So next time you’re at Barnes and Noble, check out the theology section (skip over Joel Osteen’s books) and see if you can’t find a Bonhoeffer, an NT Wright, a Schweitzer or even St. Augustine.  It’s good for you.  Might be a little painful, but you’ll love it.  I promise.

Everyone Allowed At the Table: Dialogue With Marcus Borg

Most of the people I went to college with and the professors we learned under don’t particularly care for Marcus Borg, or his friends from the Jesus Seminar, who have taken what is, in my opinion, a biased approach to critiquing the Gospels and searching for what they call “the historical Jesus.”  There’s also this general stigma within evangelical and reformed circles that dialogue of any type with said liberals is either not worth our time or potentially dangerous to one’s faith. After all, is someone who thinks Jesus didn’t really rise from the dead worth speaking to?

I think so.  In fact, I think we need to include them in our conversation.  Why?  Because they aren’t just making stuff up, but arriving at conclusions using scholarly study and technique.

I’m currently reading Borg’s book Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time. I can’t say I agree with even half of what he’s talking about, but I still want to listen to him.  The next few posts will revolve around that: listening to Borg, then talking back to Borg.  This should be quite a ride, so I hope you’ll join me. See you tomorrow

Review: “The God Who Wasn’t There.”

(Taking another break from reading to bring a documentary review around. Enjoy!)

Part of being a Christian, in my opinion, means dealing with people who claim your beliefs are crap. It’s really a human requirement, too. People are going to disagree with you, and sometimes they’re going to do it so well that you have much difficulty refuting what they say.

Fortunately, I found little difficulty from Brian Fleming’s documentary, “The God Who Wasn’t There.”

I saw this as a suggestion on my Netflix account, claiming that the movie investigated through scholars and research whether or not Jesus actually existed. I won’t lie; I didn’t want to watch it at first.  I tend to take things like this seriously, because good scholars know their stuff and I need to consider what they have to say carefully if I’m going to enter into dialogue with them at all. While a few good scholars did appear in TGWWT (Sam Harris, Robert M. Price, Richard Carrier, and Alan Dundes all gave interviews to this documentary), Fleming himself demonstrated a severe inability to actually make a case for the non-existence of an historical Jesus, instead using good scholars to give his fundamentalist upbringing the middle finger.

Fleming spends about the first ten minutes of TGWWT laying out the story of the life of Jesus, then interviews a few Christians on the street (outside a Billy Graham Crusade) about how Christianity was able to expand.  Of course, none of them give good answers (out of the five interviews shown), so he gives his own understanding of it: Paul (whom he claims had no connection with Jesus at all) rallied people around his own Christ, then the Gospels were written.  To quote him a little more directly, “Jesus lived for thirty years, then for forty years, everyone forgot, and then the gospels were written.” He also holds to the theory that Mark’s gospel was written first, and the other three just drew from that. There’s a brief quote from Hebrews that, if Jesus were on the earth, he wouldn’t be named a priest (Hebrews 8:4) taken horribly out of its context.

Fleming then launches into the hero myth comparison, where it’s demonstrated that Jesus’ story is much like stories such as the myths of Mithras, Osiris, and Dionysius (among others). I’ve heard this comparison before, and it is one I can’t deny.  There are LOTS of stories just like that of Jesus. Obviously, Christians claim that theirs is the only true one, and that the others are just plain false.  I am not educated enough in these areas to make a  scholarly attempt at explaining how Jesus is different, though my limited knowledge can produce a few thoughts, mostly in relation to the teachings of Jesus (presuming his historical existence) not looking much like the predecessor hero myths, such as Osiris or Mithras.

All the same, this marks the departure from any argument regarding the actual existence of Jesus toward a complete bashing of fundamentalist Christians everywhere, calling them militant and extremist (with some good examples, no doubt) and the claim that they are the true believers of God (based on a few quotations from Leviticus about executing gays).  According to Fleming, “moderate” Christians don’t actually agree with the Bible and aren’t real Christians, and only serve to enable the extremists of Christianity. Following interviews with Sam Harris and Richard Carrier, the display turns into a whole talk of how religion is evil and is the cause of all evil in the world, etc. Given that this documentary was made during the rise of New Atheism, I can see why it was so popular.

The last fifteen minutes, Fleming reveals that he was a fundamentalist growing up, and goes to his old school to talk to the current superintendent about the school’s statement of faith, and tries to get him to admit that what he’s doing is wrong.  When the superintendent cuts off the interview, he walks over to the open chapel, looks at the places where he sat and accepted Jesus as his Savior, then holds the camera up to his face, denies the existence of the Holy Spirit, then fade to black.

If that’s not the most petty and childish way to end what is supposed to be an examination of the historical existence of Jesus Christ, I don’t know what is.  The whole hour of talk about how horrible and idiotic Christianity is ended with an axe to grind. Pathetic.

I don’t really care about the Christ-myth theory in relation to this documentary because it wasn’t discussed. If you’re really interested in whether Jesus existed, find the books of the scholars who appeared in this movie (and the books of scholars who think they’re wrong), read them and decide for yourself. People like Brian Fleming claim to support free thinking, so do it! Whatever you do, though, don’t waste your time with this awful excuse for research. It is a disgrace to good, intellectual work and understanding, and it doesn’t even do a good job setting out what it really wanted to do, which was bash Christianity.

Brian Fleming, you owe me an hour of my life back.