Book 12 - Ch. 4 (1 of 1) - God on Our Side & at Our Service

The Christian tradition often invokes the term “our god.” On the positive side such language provides a personal and communal sense of relationship with god or the mystery of existence. However, there are some dangers of this language about which religions must be cautious if they do not want to be co-opted by self-interest.

First, if the term “our” implies a “them,” as it often does, it divides humanity. If god is on our side, then god may not be on their side. This can allow a religious justification for violence and exploitation. Furthermore, because god is on our side, we are assured that we are right and they are wrong. This might explain why religions have so often been involved in demonizing and dehumanizing an “other” and why some studies have indicated non-religious children are more empathetic and less punitive than religious children. At its worst, religion teaches children to look down on people who are not like them.

Christians often fail to recognize that Jesus consistently identified with the other. Jesus’ contemporaries, who preferred to live in a world of us and them, would have found Jesus with those they identified as “them.” Today’s believers would be wise to consider whether Jesus would have identified with those who are currently viewed as “them.” One of the best known historical studies of Jesus describes him, in its title, as a “Marginal Jew.” Jesus was a Jew who stood with those viewed as outsiders by mainstream society and with those who were looked down on by his religious community. Violence, in the form of crime, shootings, terrorism, wars, crosses, lethal injection, and torture, is the end result of an “us and them” worldview. Either we choose a side and build up an arsenal in preparation for this struggle, or we work for a world that equally values all people (which begins with naming the people whose suffering is ignored). Acting as a god leads us to readily identify those who don’t promote our interests and desires as a “them;” yet, for Jesus there was only an all-inclusive “us.” No one would end up ignored, marginalized, crucified, murdered, tortured, or executed in Jesus’ world.

Another danger is that “our” is a possessive term. While I don’t believe the intent of the term is to imply possessiveness, there is no doubt that believers have frequently used god as an object to validate their interests. God can easily become a possession whose existence is secondary to our self-interest. Often the concept of god provides a sacred quality to our preferences, which is more attractive than undisguised ego.

THE EMPIRE'S GOD

When Voltaire, a French writer and philosopher, observed, “If God has made us in his image, we have returned him the favor,” he recognized that our understanding of god can be more reflective of ourselves and our values than indicative of an authentic reflection on transcendent reality. In other words we create a god for ourselves that validates our thoughts, prejudices, and interests and then capitalize the G. This “god in our image” assures us that we are good and righteous. In the book "The Powers that Be", Walter Wink, who was a Methodist theologian and scholar, seemingly endorses Voltaire’s observation showing how god and religion can be co-opted by individuals and by nations. Wink notes, “Christianity's weaponless victory over the Roman Empire resulted in the weaponless victory of the empire over the gospel.” Wink’s insight is reflected by the fact that once Christianity became Rome’s religion, Jesus was increasingly depicted in the style of the emperors. This might have been a way of symbolizing Jesus’ power and importance in a Roman context; on the other hand it used Jesus to endorse the Empire’s values and its understanding of power and importance. These are the values of the same Empire that saw him as a threat and crucified him. The victory of the Empire over Christianity was evidenced in the crusades of the middle ages, which saw cross-bearing crusaders march off to conquer and kill in the name of the one who said, “love your enemies,” and “turn the other cheek.” Arguably, it continues today. The most church-going developed nation in the world spends significantly more money on military than any other nation while supplying (and profiting from) much of the weaponry needed by other peoples to wage their own wars. Just as Christians painted crosses on their shields during the crusades, one company has manufactured guns with Bible passages inscribed on them which were employed for military use. A poll conducted by the Washington Post and ABC indicated American Christians are more likely to approve of torture than non-Christians. Jesus leaned strongly toward nonviolence and understanding of one’s enemies; it is evident that the Christian world has instead, at times, tended toward the Empire’s affinity for violence, control, revenge, and demonization of the enemy. The god of many Christians, in as much as he manifests the anger, divisiveness, and hostility of some believers, would seem to be more reminiscent of Zeus and Apollo than the god who Jesus proclaimed “makes his sun rise on the good and evil, and sends rain on the just and the unjust.” Notably, Jesus’ description of god appears in conjunction with his call, “to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

The extent to which the Empire’s values have infected Christianity cannot be definitively determined, but considering it should lead us to question our history. Were the Christian inquisitors following the authentic Jesus who freed others or an Empire-based Jesus who demeaned others when they sought control by burning heretics at the stake? Were Christians following Jesus who said “judge not” or the Empire’s image of a powerful, monarchical, judgmental Jesus when they sentenced “witches” to death? Were popes carried on thrones while dressed in priceless vestments and preachers who have earned exorbitant salaries to support an extravagant lifestyle reflecting power as understood by Jesus who washed his disciples’ feet and dressed as an ordinary person, or were they more reflective of the indulgent power of the emperor, who “Lorded” it over his people? Were Christians following Jesus’ model of service or the Empire’s model of exploitation and domination when they colonized and enslaved Africa, the Americas, and parts of Southeast Asia and as they have continued to seek control of the developing world’s resources? Were Catholic leaders following Jesus’ logic of humility or the Empire’s logic of self-preservation when they covered up the sex abuse crisis, placing reputation over integrity and proceeding to attack those who questioned their integrity? I do not ask these questions to indicate that Christian history is only filled with evil and oppression but to bring to light historical sins that we prefer to minimize. As we have seen Jesus implored people to start with the stake in their own eyes.

To some extent the Roman Empire clearly infected Christianity with explicitly un-Christian values relating to power, violence, reputation, and certainty. The Empire also provided Christians of the future with a blueprint for transforming Christianity into an affirmation of their own interests. The use of god and religion to condone our interests can be clearly seen in the existence of “state religions.”

STATE RELIGIONS AND COLONIALISM

State religions are dangerous because they put religion at the service of the national interest sometimes using religion to baptize unethical realities. In a state religion God is made to serve the powerful and will validate oppression if it serves the interests of those who have the wealth and authority. If one follows the arrows, the god of state religion points back to the self-centered preferences of the people who benefit in that nation, indicating that self is enshrined in the heart of their temple, though they would rarely admit this to themselves. In a state religion the interests of those in power become sacred.

In the "Kairos Document" an inter-denominational group of South Africans responded to the way theology was being used to promote an oppressive, racist regime. They observed that “State Theology… blesses injustice, canonizes the will of the powerful and reduces the poor to passivity, obedience and apathy.” They quoted the preamble to the constitution of the Apartheid regime:

"In humble submission to Almighty God, who controls the destinies of nations and the history of peoples; who gathered our forebears together from many lands and gave them this their own; who has guided them from generation to generation; who has wondrously delivered them from the dangers that beset them."

In response to this preamble, the anonymous writers of the Kairos Document declared:

"This god is an idol. It is as mischievous, sinister, and evil as any of the idols that the prophets of Israel had to contend with. Here we have a god who is historically on the side of the white settlers, who dispossessed black people of their land and who gives the major part of the land to his 'chosen people.'"

The implications of the Kairos Document are shocking. The document indicates that “good Christians” (even the pious, elderly church members), who worshiped the god of the constitution, were unintentionally worshiping a diabolical reality that endorsed evil. Religion was offering an “ethical” cover for clearly unethical behavior. The Dutch descended Afrikaners’ (white South Africans’) mythology reassured them that they did not steal this previously inhabited land; instead, it was given to them by god, specifically the god of Christianity. In America the unofficial theology of Manifest Destiny allowed people to circumvent ethical considerations as well. This religious view was oriented toward settlers’ interests. It was not directed toward searching for what is right, but assured people that their interests were the will of god. Just as beneficiaries of Apartheid South Africa avoided the admission that their societal order was the result of a violation of the Seventh Commandment by attributing theft of land and resources from those they had colonized to god’s will, theft of lands from Native Americans was attributed to our nation’s “god-given” destiny. Like the white South Africans’ god, the god worshiped in America has, periodically (in as much as it has been used to justify or has encouraged silence in the face of murder, theft, enslavement, racial and sexual discrimination, exploitation, and hate toward various marginalized peoples), been as “mischievous, sinister, and evil” as idols that people readily identify as sacrilegious.

Most of what is now described as the developed world tried to assert its interests over less powerful peoples through the practice of colonialism. Imitating the empire model that had crushed their savior, Christian nations looked to Africa, Southeast Asia, the Middle East, and the Americas for wealth and sought to impose their interests on foreign peoples. Similar tendencies can be observed historically in the Incan and Aztec Empires, as well as in eastern societies such as China, Japan, Persia, Turkey (the Ottoman Empire), and Russia, all of whom sought to expand their sphere of dominance. Ania Loomba, an Indian professor of British Literature, defines colonialism as:

"The conquest and control of other people’s land and goods. This process is one which involves physical invasion of an-other’s land, the destruction of pre-existing social and cultural structures, an assumption of political and economic control, the establishment of social relations based on racial inferiority, and the weakening of resistance to allow control of society. In this manner, therefore, colonialism can be seen as insinuating imperial control throughout every aspect of society and culture."

Colonialism, which often has been sanctioned by god (but does not require a religion’s god, since nationalism can treat state interests as the god), is simply the desire of one nation to impose its interests on another. It is an attempt to control, in god-like fashion, the resources, land, beliefs, and government of another people.

For colonial powers, assumptions of religious, cultural, or racial superiority are a more effective path to justifying their interests and actions than an honest application of their stated values. In recent history unjust relationships would clearly conflict with the ethical ideals that the oppressive party espoused. Many prophetic individuals in various settings have tried to draw attention to their community’s inconsistent application of its values. Almost two hundred years after The United States’ founding, Martin Luther King, Jr., in his "I Have a Dream speech", reminded the United States that it still was not living out its treasured belief that all people “are created equal.” Recently, an inter-religious and multicultural group has developed "The Charter for Compassion" based on the recognition that across the boundaries of religion and culture there is a shared set of ideals centered on the Golden Rule and compassion. The Charter calls those in the world community to live the values that they espouse. Unfortunately, while stated values are often prized, since they serve our sense of a morally superior identity, they are routinely ignored when acting on them appears impractical or would conflict with our interests. This may be unknown to us, as the confirmation bias unconsciously leads us to look for evidence that confirms the validity of our assumptions and beliefs. Therefore, if we believe that we are morally superior, we can exploit or ignore the exploitation of others without needing to question our own goodness.

We assume that those we seek to control deserve this treatment, pointing out their perceived imperfections (lack of culture, lack of virtue, etc.). The problem is that any ethical analysis of those victimized by our need for control is simply a diversion; it has no bearing on the matter in question, which is “Were or are our actions righteous?” Resorting to blaming the victim is essentially focusing on the speck in our neighbor’s eye. It reflects a desire to not question ourselves. People try to justify our colonial and imperial history in the Americas by pointing out that the Native Americans weren’t saints, and some tribes were guilty of atrocities or that slaves were sometimes sold into slavery by other Africans. It is always easier to see the destructive workings of ego in those with whom we do not identify than those we view as like us. To try to diminish or distract from the failures in our history is an understandable desire, as an honest account of these injustices would validate those who would like to question our modern day interests and the policies that promote them. The imperfections of the oppressed were not the cause of the sins of the oppressors. The Spaniards weren’t trying to rescue the natives from the human sacrifice practiced by the Aztecs; they were promoting their own interests. African slavers did not create the demand for the slave trade; the Western slave trade would not have existed without Western greed and self-centeredness. The attempt to discredit Native American and African cultures serves the mythology of our superior status. We don’t need to examine our conscience if we already “know,” and our history seemingly proves, that we are right and good and that we are the instrument of “god’s will.”

If we must point to the historical faults of other societies, their faults should be reminders to us to be aware of the universal struggle with human selfishness rather than a reassurance of our superiority. In "The Spirituality of Imperfection", Katherine Kurtz and Ernest Ketchum recount several stories involving the desert mothers and fathers, a group of spiritual masters who sought a pure experience of Christianity separated from the corrupting influence of the Roman Empire. In one story about the desert fathers, Abba Ammonas hides the sins of a fellow monk from other monks who are seeking to discredit their sinful brother. After covering up his brother’s sin, Abba Ammonas cautions the wayward monk that each person’s primary response to evil should be to “pay attention to yourself.”

Some of the “Christian” world’s actions have been indefensible and offer a stark reminder of our capacity to put our need for control over a basic consideration of the rights of others. They also demonstrate our capacity for rationalization. That an argument can be made for something proves nothing; after all, an argument can be made for anything. Fully facing our questionable past would force us to strive for rightness rather than assume it. We often forget that Jesus did not say blessed are the righteous; instead he honored those who “hunger and thirst for righteousness.” Our own history, as well as the history of various other cultures, provides overwhelming evidence that putting complete (and likely unconscious) faith in our own righteousness is an inadequate guide to ethical living. The question we must ask ourselves is not are we righteous, but instead are we tirelessly struggling to discover how to live rightly.