The Politics of the Pure Heart
After recounting a horrible story in which a woman abused pledges to teach hatred and vengeance to her child, Volf dives directly into the heart of reconciliation. In order for such work to advance, it needs to be undertaken not just by the perpetrators of violence and hatred, but most especially by the victims and the oppressed.
This might ring strangely in our ears, but Volf's point is a good and solid one. He goes straight to Jesus' teachings and the fact that those who listened most closely were the oppressed of the day. Usually poor, usually uneducated or poorly educated, members of an occupied country, and living in the lower echelons of society, they heard Jesus call them to hearts that were humble and lives that reflected love of God and neighbor. Twined throughout this message was the underlying message of repentance.
Volf reminds us of the true meaning of repentance: "To repent means to make a turnabout of a profound moral and religious import. Repentance implies not merely a recognition that one has made a bad mistake, but that one has sinned." It is not enough to say "I'm sorry" and walk away. Instead, repentance means fully understanding the action that one took and the harm that came from that action, and then resolving fully to engage in that action no more.
But how can we apply the need for repentance to those who are victims? This has long been the sticking point, where the hatred and anger of the victim or oppressed becomes justified as a correct response to the wrongs experienced. This is the problem, says Volf, that has allowed the cycle to return and create more oppressors out of those who were oppressed, and more victimizers out of those who were victims.
The victim cannot and should not repent for the violence done to her, but she can and she must repent of the anger and hatred that violence almost inevitable engenders. The oppressed cannot and should not repent for the policies that make each and every day a hell to bear, but he can and he must repent of the plans of violence that spin in his head to make things even. If the victim or the oppressed can repent of the destructive emotions and responses and instead seek ways to pray for the enemy, then the cycle of violence and oppression can be broken and true reconciliation has a chance to break through.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Chapter Three, pages 105-110
Adieu to the Grand Narratives
Volf boldly states in this section, "every one of the grand narratives has failed." He cites two examples, but it is not hard to find examples in our own society. The reality is that, because we are flawed human beings, we will never be able to arrive at justice for all simply by doing it on our own. Part of the problem is the fact that, not only are we flawed human beings, we are also very different human beings, coming from different cultures and experiences, from different value-sets and beliefs. Trying to cram all those differences under one over-arching umbrella, even an umbrella with as enticing a name as "freedom" or "justice" will never work. At least, not when it's attempted by human hands.
Because of these pluralities, a truly established peace will always be just beyond our fingertips. "What stands in the way of reconciliation is not some inherent incommensurability, but a more profoundly disturbing fact that along with new understandings and peace agreements new conflicts and disagreements are permanently generated." We will never be done with the work of reconciliation.
Which is why Volf points to a final reconciliation that will only be accomplished by the Divine. It is not, in the end, our job to bring about a complete reconciliation across the world. Any such reconciliation would be forced, would quiet gentler voices and disregard minorities, all in the search for a grand narrative of peace. Only God can hold the reigns of peace in hands that span the whole world, holding all the differences and similarities gently together in the beauty of the good creation. Therefore, "a nonfinal reconciliation in the midst of the struggle against oppression is what a responsible theology must be designed to facilitate."
In order to advance along these lines, towards a day when God's final reconciliation is enacted and God's perfect love is in all and through all, we must be at work in our own lives. To this end, Volf intends to argue "that reconciliation with the other will succeed only if the self, guided by the narrative of the triune God, is ready to receive the other into itself and undertake a re-adjustment of its identity in light of the other's alterity." How can we do this when our differences can be greater than what we can take into ourselves? This is what Volf intends to address.
Volf boldly states in this section, "every one of the grand narratives has failed." He cites two examples, but it is not hard to find examples in our own society. The reality is that, because we are flawed human beings, we will never be able to arrive at justice for all simply by doing it on our own. Part of the problem is the fact that, not only are we flawed human beings, we are also very different human beings, coming from different cultures and experiences, from different value-sets and beliefs. Trying to cram all those differences under one over-arching umbrella, even an umbrella with as enticing a name as "freedom" or "justice" will never work. At least, not when it's attempted by human hands.
Because of these pluralities, a truly established peace will always be just beyond our fingertips. "What stands in the way of reconciliation is not some inherent incommensurability, but a more profoundly disturbing fact that along with new understandings and peace agreements new conflicts and disagreements are permanently generated." We will never be done with the work of reconciliation.
Which is why Volf points to a final reconciliation that will only be accomplished by the Divine. It is not, in the end, our job to bring about a complete reconciliation across the world. Any such reconciliation would be forced, would quiet gentler voices and disregard minorities, all in the search for a grand narrative of peace. Only God can hold the reigns of peace in hands that span the whole world, holding all the differences and similarities gently together in the beauty of the good creation. Therefore, "a nonfinal reconciliation in the midst of the struggle against oppression is what a responsible theology must be designed to facilitate."
In order to advance along these lines, towards a day when God's final reconciliation is enacted and God's perfect love is in all and through all, we must be at work in our own lives. To this end, Volf intends to argue "that reconciliation with the other will succeed only if the self, guided by the narrative of the triune God, is ready to receive the other into itself and undertake a re-adjustment of its identity in light of the other's alterity." How can we do this when our differences can be greater than what we can take into ourselves? This is what Volf intends to address.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Chapter Three, pages 99-105
Embrace
Having spent some time examining the basics of Exclusion, Volf is now going to shift focus to exclusion's corrective, Embrace. "The central thesis of the chapter is that God's reception of hostile humanity into divine communion is a model for how human beings should relate to the other." As God has done with us, so we are to do with one another. Sound familiar?
Volf opens this section with the important reminder that we always have a choice. "We should not forget that to destroy the other rather than to be destroyed oneself is itself a choice... If there is will, courage, and imagination the stark polarity can be overcome." I believe this is key to being able to move forward and seeking ways to turn exclusion into embrace. As long as we hide behind the words "I had no choice, it was me or them," then we will continue to choose methods of exclusion over options of embrace. Recognizing that there is always a choice, even when the choices all seem to be bad, is the first necessary step for us.
The Ambiguities of Liberation
Liberation theology has made important contributions to the discussion of who God is and how God would have us live as faithful people in the world. This focus on liberation from economic, governmental, and religious oppression has shifted instead to equating liberation with freedom.
"Freedom is the most sacred good," Volf says, and for us in America, he has nailed it. We hold onto our freedoms no matter what, and often quote "freedom" as the end that justifies the means. As long as freedom is intact, almost anything else can be ignored.
The difficulty in equating liberation with freedom begins almost immediately. A business owner is free to charge a set price for goods and to pay a set price for the work of employees. An employee is free to stay with a particular business owner, or seek another job if the working conditions are not satisfactory. But it's never that easy. The business owner may feel that laws governing living wages and safe working conditions are oppressive, while the employee may feel that the same laws don't offer enough protection, leading to oppression. Neither one is liberated, regardless of the assumption that both are free.
So how can we move forward with a discussion of liberation? Volf first says that we have to recognize that "more often than not, conflicts are messy." Just as exclusion is never a clean-cut issue, conflicts around what it means to live free of oppression are just as unclear. An important piece of this messy situation is the fact that there is almost never a blameless victim. When it comes to systems of oppression, each person bears a portion of blame for being a part of that system. No one is completely innocent.
The second challenge rears its ugly head when one side wins. If the oppressed are now liberated, what will they do with their newfound freedom and power? The course of history suggests that those who were once oppressed very quickly turn into oppressors when the tables are turned. There are a few exceptions, but only because of hard work, intentional effort, and constant retuning.
This raises the question as to whether freedom can be an ultimate goal. Instead, Volf agrees with liberation theologian Gustavo Gutierrez, who said that love needs to be first and foremost. "To make love tower over freedom does not mean abandoning the project of liberation... But to insist on the primacy of love over freedom means to transform the project of liberation, to liberate it from the tendency to idealogize relations of social actors and perpetuate their antagonisms. We need to insert the project of liberation into a larger framework of what I have called elsewhere 'a theology of embrace.'"
Having spent some time examining the basics of Exclusion, Volf is now going to shift focus to exclusion's corrective, Embrace. "The central thesis of the chapter is that God's reception of hostile humanity into divine communion is a model for how human beings should relate to the other." As God has done with us, so we are to do with one another. Sound familiar?
Volf opens this section with the important reminder that we always have a choice. "We should not forget that to destroy the other rather than to be destroyed oneself is itself a choice... If there is will, courage, and imagination the stark polarity can be overcome." I believe this is key to being able to move forward and seeking ways to turn exclusion into embrace. As long as we hide behind the words "I had no choice, it was me or them," then we will continue to choose methods of exclusion over options of embrace. Recognizing that there is always a choice, even when the choices all seem to be bad, is the first necessary step for us.
The Ambiguities of Liberation
Liberation theology has made important contributions to the discussion of who God is and how God would have us live as faithful people in the world. This focus on liberation from economic, governmental, and religious oppression has shifted instead to equating liberation with freedom.
"Freedom is the most sacred good," Volf says, and for us in America, he has nailed it. We hold onto our freedoms no matter what, and often quote "freedom" as the end that justifies the means. As long as freedom is intact, almost anything else can be ignored.
The difficulty in equating liberation with freedom begins almost immediately. A business owner is free to charge a set price for goods and to pay a set price for the work of employees. An employee is free to stay with a particular business owner, or seek another job if the working conditions are not satisfactory. But it's never that easy. The business owner may feel that laws governing living wages and safe working conditions are oppressive, while the employee may feel that the same laws don't offer enough protection, leading to oppression. Neither one is liberated, regardless of the assumption that both are free.
So how can we move forward with a discussion of liberation? Volf first says that we have to recognize that "more often than not, conflicts are messy." Just as exclusion is never a clean-cut issue, conflicts around what it means to live free of oppression are just as unclear. An important piece of this messy situation is the fact that there is almost never a blameless victim. When it comes to systems of oppression, each person bears a portion of blame for being a part of that system. No one is completely innocent.
The second challenge rears its ugly head when one side wins. If the oppressed are now liberated, what will they do with their newfound freedom and power? The course of history suggests that those who were once oppressed very quickly turn into oppressors when the tables are turned. There are a few exceptions, but only because of hard work, intentional effort, and constant retuning.
This raises the question as to whether freedom can be an ultimate goal. Instead, Volf agrees with liberation theologian Gustavo Gutierrez, who said that love needs to be first and foremost. "To make love tower over freedom does not mean abandoning the project of liberation... But to insist on the primacy of love over freedom means to transform the project of liberation, to liberate it from the tendency to idealogize relations of social actors and perpetuate their antagonisms. We need to insert the project of liberation into a larger framework of what I have called elsewhere 'a theology of embrace.'"
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Chapter Two, pages 92-98
Cain's Assault
This section asks us to take a fresh look at the story of Cain and Abel. It is always tempting to put ourselves into the role of the virtuous one, but the truth is that we play both roles at different times in our life. "Cain's envy and murder do not prefigure how 'they'... behave in distinction to 'us'... but, how all human beings tend to behave toward others."
Fortunately for us, the story of Cain is also a story of God's protection. Cain is not just exiled from his home, he is also marked and given holy protection through his wanderings. This is fortunate, for when we live into the role of Cain in our own lives, we know we will not be completely forsaken and cast off.
This is a story of inequalities and the choices we make when confronted with them. Volf opens up this story, helping us see that Cain was the favored son, with the most successful life, while Abel was the second son, who barely scratched a living out of the earth. Cain came to God expecting that his favored status would translate to an outpouring of divine blessing, regardless of the state of his heart or his offerings. When Abel was honored above him, the reversal was more than Cain could take. Abel was unworthy, and if God chose the unworthy son over the worthy one, then God must also be unworthy.
Do you see the dangerous logic that Cain employed? It is often this kind of logic we use to justify our exclusion of others. They are not worth our time, energy, resources, etc. That level of worth can be measured in many different, trivial ways, disregarding the most fundamental truth that we are all human, all created from the dust of the earth. "Cain was confronted with God's measure of what truly matters and what is truly great." God turns the tables on us whenever we try to put ourselves above another human being.
Because Cain, because we, cannot bear to live with this reversal, we fall prey to the pervasive logic of sin. "The logic of sin was originally designed for the very purpose of overcoming the obligation to do good." We begin to come up with reasons and rationale for why we must act the way we choose to act.
Volf says that first we set up a geography of sin, determining where we can carry out our desires. This takes us out of the public sphere, because deep down we know that what we are contemplating is not appropriate. "The preferred geography of sin is 'the outside,' where the wrongdoing can happen unnoticed and unhindered." Cain knew that his response of violence towards Abel was not appropriate, even though he also felt like he had no other choice. An empty field was chosen, where no one would see and no one would know. No one except for God, that is.
Then there is the ideology of sin. "The ideology of sin functions to deny both the act and the responsibility for it, preferably with a touch of humor." Once the sin has been committed, we find ways to defer suspicion and investigation. "Am I my brother's keeper?" Cain asked, blithely sidestepping the Divine's questions. In order for our sin to remain undetected, we construct whole stories to cover our whereabouts and deeds.
But all of our maneuvering cannot change the simple facts: we have been created by one God, and so we are all brothers and sisters. We are our brother's keeper, and our sister's friend, to use the words of a song I know. This is God's intention for our life together. When we act in a way to exclude another, then we end up excluding ourselves, from all relationships and from God.
Still, there is good news. We may exclude ourselves by our own actions, or inactions, but God does not abandon us. God chooses to remain in relationship with Cain even though his sin was egregious. "The same God who did not regard Cain's scanty offering, bestowed kindness upon the murderer whose life was in danger. God did not abandon Cain to the cycle of exclusions he himself has set in motion." This provides us assurance for when we are acting out Cain's role, and guidance when we have been wronged like Abel.
This section asks us to take a fresh look at the story of Cain and Abel. It is always tempting to put ourselves into the role of the virtuous one, but the truth is that we play both roles at different times in our life. "Cain's envy and murder do not prefigure how 'they'... behave in distinction to 'us'... but, how all human beings tend to behave toward others."
Fortunately for us, the story of Cain is also a story of God's protection. Cain is not just exiled from his home, he is also marked and given holy protection through his wanderings. This is fortunate, for when we live into the role of Cain in our own lives, we know we will not be completely forsaken and cast off.
This is a story of inequalities and the choices we make when confronted with them. Volf opens up this story, helping us see that Cain was the favored son, with the most successful life, while Abel was the second son, who barely scratched a living out of the earth. Cain came to God expecting that his favored status would translate to an outpouring of divine blessing, regardless of the state of his heart or his offerings. When Abel was honored above him, the reversal was more than Cain could take. Abel was unworthy, and if God chose the unworthy son over the worthy one, then God must also be unworthy.
Do you see the dangerous logic that Cain employed? It is often this kind of logic we use to justify our exclusion of others. They are not worth our time, energy, resources, etc. That level of worth can be measured in many different, trivial ways, disregarding the most fundamental truth that we are all human, all created from the dust of the earth. "Cain was confronted with God's measure of what truly matters and what is truly great." God turns the tables on us whenever we try to put ourselves above another human being.
Because Cain, because we, cannot bear to live with this reversal, we fall prey to the pervasive logic of sin. "The logic of sin was originally designed for the very purpose of overcoming the obligation to do good." We begin to come up with reasons and rationale for why we must act the way we choose to act.
Volf says that first we set up a geography of sin, determining where we can carry out our desires. This takes us out of the public sphere, because deep down we know that what we are contemplating is not appropriate. "The preferred geography of sin is 'the outside,' where the wrongdoing can happen unnoticed and unhindered." Cain knew that his response of violence towards Abel was not appropriate, even though he also felt like he had no other choice. An empty field was chosen, where no one would see and no one would know. No one except for God, that is.
Then there is the ideology of sin. "The ideology of sin functions to deny both the act and the responsibility for it, preferably with a touch of humor." Once the sin has been committed, we find ways to defer suspicion and investigation. "Am I my brother's keeper?" Cain asked, blithely sidestepping the Divine's questions. In order for our sin to remain undetected, we construct whole stories to cover our whereabouts and deeds.
But all of our maneuvering cannot change the simple facts: we have been created by one God, and so we are all brothers and sisters. We are our brother's keeper, and our sister's friend, to use the words of a song I know. This is God's intention for our life together. When we act in a way to exclude another, then we end up excluding ourselves, from all relationships and from God.
Still, there is good news. We may exclude ourselves by our own actions, or inactions, but God does not abandon us. God chooses to remain in relationship with Cain even though his sin was egregious. "The same God who did not regard Cain's scanty offering, bestowed kindness upon the murderer whose life was in danger. God did not abandon Cain to the cycle of exclusions he himself has set in motion." This provides us assurance for when we are acting out Cain's role, and guidance when we have been wronged like Abel.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Chapter Two, pages 86-92
The Power of Exclusion
If the last section was weak, this section was downright scary. The title doesn't quite do it justice; this section maps how a reasonable people, nation, or community can become purveyors of violence and exclusion through simple, seemingly reasonable steps and circumstances. It strikes very close to home in this day and age.
Volf begins with the firm statement that there is always a choice. There may never be any innocents, but there is always a choice as to how to respond in any given situation. The choices may be awful and the repercussions unimaginable, but there is always a choice. "Within the vast expanse of noninnocence whose frontiers recede with the horizon, there are choices to be made, important choices about justice and oppression, truth and deception, violence and non-violence, about the will to embrace or to exclude, ultimately choices about life and death." I think one of the ways evil masquerades in our midst is by whispering that we have no other choice, and so, feeling justified, we choose an easier, and more harmful, way.
Evil here is given shape and form, power and personality. "We choose evil; but evil also 'chooses' us and exerts its terrible power over us." This is not some red Satan-doll with a tail and pitchfork, but a dark spirit that thrives in our unexamined thoughts and actions and lives in our deepest selves. There is a "complex transpersonal and systemic reality of evil which dominates, ensnares, and lures persons to dominate others." In the language of this book, that domination becomes exclusion, and permeates all facets of our lives.
Then, when life begins to be difficult or tragedies occur, this background cacophony of evil gets begins to crescendo, and its different themes begin to be trumpeted by the leaders of the day. Volf's rendering of this movement is masterful, and I cannot being to recapture it as well as he wrote it. Suffice it to say, we don't have to look very far today to see this being played out in our society.
All of these things rest on the foundational thought that "we" are the ones who are right, "we" are the ones for whom glory is destined, "we" are the ones who are unable to fall short in any way. With this blind faith in ourselves and our virtues, we are easily led down paths where evil is "necessary" in order for the "greater good."
It begins with a "background cacophony of evil" that permeates everything; "this is the low-intensity evil of the way 'things work' or the way 'things simply are.'" It is the background cacophony that helps us adopt attitudes of resignation when we know that we are literally buying into harmful cycles. "Faith in oneself is generated by the tales of historical glory and plausible explanations of past failures; hope in the future is born, a future in which we will no longer suffer injustice and discrimination, a future underwritten by the unfailing promises of our god." With such an end in sight, the means are clearly interpreted to justify the ends.
This underlying melody and music serves to show us who is "in" and part of the grand symphony "our god" has orchestrated for us, and who is out. If someone else is different, then that difference is not allowed, because all must be sacrificed for the harmony we are seeking. Instead of being able to embrace difference and make space for each to be himself or herself, difference is seen as errors and willful disobedience.
This system of exclusion plays perfectly into our own tendencies towards exclusion on a personal level, leading us down a path that can quickly suffocate any difference that might seek to thrive in our general area. It is only through the gift of the Spirit that Volf sees our hope of being freed from these twin bonds. "The Spirit enters the citadel of the self, de-centers the self by fashioning it in the image of the self-giving Christ, and frees its will so it can resist the power of exclusion in the power of the Spirit of embrace." And so God, the true Creator, is at work to dismantle our own exclusionary creations.
If the last section was weak, this section was downright scary. The title doesn't quite do it justice; this section maps how a reasonable people, nation, or community can become purveyors of violence and exclusion through simple, seemingly reasonable steps and circumstances. It strikes very close to home in this day and age.
Volf begins with the firm statement that there is always a choice. There may never be any innocents, but there is always a choice as to how to respond in any given situation. The choices may be awful and the repercussions unimaginable, but there is always a choice. "Within the vast expanse of noninnocence whose frontiers recede with the horizon, there are choices to be made, important choices about justice and oppression, truth and deception, violence and non-violence, about the will to embrace or to exclude, ultimately choices about life and death." I think one of the ways evil masquerades in our midst is by whispering that we have no other choice, and so, feeling justified, we choose an easier, and more harmful, way.
Evil here is given shape and form, power and personality. "We choose evil; but evil also 'chooses' us and exerts its terrible power over us." This is not some red Satan-doll with a tail and pitchfork, but a dark spirit that thrives in our unexamined thoughts and actions and lives in our deepest selves. There is a "complex transpersonal and systemic reality of evil which dominates, ensnares, and lures persons to dominate others." In the language of this book, that domination becomes exclusion, and permeates all facets of our lives.
Then, when life begins to be difficult or tragedies occur, this background cacophony of evil gets begins to crescendo, and its different themes begin to be trumpeted by the leaders of the day. Volf's rendering of this movement is masterful, and I cannot being to recapture it as well as he wrote it. Suffice it to say, we don't have to look very far today to see this being played out in our society.
All of these things rest on the foundational thought that "we" are the ones who are right, "we" are the ones for whom glory is destined, "we" are the ones who are unable to fall short in any way. With this blind faith in ourselves and our virtues, we are easily led down paths where evil is "necessary" in order for the "greater good."
It begins with a "background cacophony of evil" that permeates everything; "this is the low-intensity evil of the way 'things work' or the way 'things simply are.'" It is the background cacophony that helps us adopt attitudes of resignation when we know that we are literally buying into harmful cycles. "Faith in oneself is generated by the tales of historical glory and plausible explanations of past failures; hope in the future is born, a future in which we will no longer suffer injustice and discrimination, a future underwritten by the unfailing promises of our god." With such an end in sight, the means are clearly interpreted to justify the ends.
This underlying melody and music serves to show us who is "in" and part of the grand symphony "our god" has orchestrated for us, and who is out. If someone else is different, then that difference is not allowed, because all must be sacrificed for the harmony we are seeking. Instead of being able to embrace difference and make space for each to be himself or herself, difference is seen as errors and willful disobedience.
This system of exclusion plays perfectly into our own tendencies towards exclusion on a personal level, leading us down a path that can quickly suffocate any difference that might seek to thrive in our general area. It is only through the gift of the Spirit that Volf sees our hope of being freed from these twin bonds. "The Spirit enters the citadel of the self, de-centers the self by fashioning it in the image of the self-giving Christ, and frees its will so it can resist the power of exclusion in the power of the Spirit of embrace." And so God, the true Creator, is at work to dismantle our own exclusionary creations.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Chapter Two, pages 79-85
Contrived Innocence
I'll admit right at the beginning that I found this section to be a little weak. Maybe it's because Volf is "preaching to the choir," or because I didn't hear anything new or newly explained. Still, the understanding of sin as a universal experience is central to the struggle with embracing the other, so it is an important section to work through.
The underlying point here is that there is no such thing as "innocence." We are all stained with sin, either wrong thoughts, wrong actions, or wrong lack of action. Volf spends quite a bit of time showing how both the "perpetrator" and the "victim" are caught in this cycle of sin, with neither completely blameless. Even if a victim does nothing to warrant being abused at that precise moment in time, that person may well be the abuser at another point, and can never claim to be without sin.
The greater problem, I believe, is what Volf touches on at the beginning of this section. It's not that we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, but the claim that it's "not my fault." The inability to honestly assess our actions and call them sinful or harmful is a growing epidemic in this world. On the other side of the coin is the inability to honestly admit to ourselves and to others those sins, and sincerely ask for forgiveness. The more we pass off our problems as "someone else's fault," the further we get from being able to enter into life-giving relationships.
As with any difficult subject, the immediate tendency is to say, "I know exactly what you're talking about! In fact, this person I know never takes responsibility for..." This will never bring about any kind of change, because we can never change another person or how that person chooses to act. Instead, we have to look to ourselves, to our own shortcomings, our own failures, our own contrived innocence, and admit that we have tried to pass ourselves off as blameless. If each one of us can begin by seeing this tendency within ourselves, then we will be one step closer to stopping the cycle of sin and blame in our own lives.
Why does this matter? Assigning blame is an easy way to erect barriers between ourselves and those who are different in some way. Claiming innocence means that we don't have any moral obligation to improve or establish a relationship that is strained by difference. Seeing sin in everyone else and not yourself offers a handy reason to be removed and remote, in order to remain pure. By accepting the words of Scripture, "if you say you are without sin you deceive yourself and the truth is not in you," barriers begin to fall, pointing fingers can become open hands, and sinful people can begin to work together for the benefit of the world.
I'll admit right at the beginning that I found this section to be a little weak. Maybe it's because Volf is "preaching to the choir," or because I didn't hear anything new or newly explained. Still, the understanding of sin as a universal experience is central to the struggle with embracing the other, so it is an important section to work through.
The underlying point here is that there is no such thing as "innocence." We are all stained with sin, either wrong thoughts, wrong actions, or wrong lack of action. Volf spends quite a bit of time showing how both the "perpetrator" and the "victim" are caught in this cycle of sin, with neither completely blameless. Even if a victim does nothing to warrant being abused at that precise moment in time, that person may well be the abuser at another point, and can never claim to be without sin.
The greater problem, I believe, is what Volf touches on at the beginning of this section. It's not that we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, but the claim that it's "not my fault." The inability to honestly assess our actions and call them sinful or harmful is a growing epidemic in this world. On the other side of the coin is the inability to honestly admit to ourselves and to others those sins, and sincerely ask for forgiveness. The more we pass off our problems as "someone else's fault," the further we get from being able to enter into life-giving relationships.
As with any difficult subject, the immediate tendency is to say, "I know exactly what you're talking about! In fact, this person I know never takes responsibility for..." This will never bring about any kind of change, because we can never change another person or how that person chooses to act. Instead, we have to look to ourselves, to our own shortcomings, our own failures, our own contrived innocence, and admit that we have tried to pass ourselves off as blameless. If each one of us can begin by seeing this tendency within ourselves, then we will be one step closer to stopping the cycle of sin and blame in our own lives.
Why does this matter? Assigning blame is an easy way to erect barriers between ourselves and those who are different in some way. Claiming innocence means that we don't have any moral obligation to improve or establish a relationship that is strained by difference. Seeing sin in everyone else and not yourself offers a handy reason to be removed and remote, in order to remain pure. By accepting the words of Scripture, "if you say you are without sin you deceive yourself and the truth is not in you," barriers begin to fall, pointing fingers can become open hands, and sinful people can begin to work together for the benefit of the world.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Chapter Two, pages 72-79
The Anatomy and Dynamics of Exclusion
In order to more fully recognize when exclusion is sin as opposed to when it is proper judgment of those things which should not be included, we must have a better understanding of exclusion itself. That is Volf's aim in this section; setting out the qualities of sinful exclusion so we can begin to discern those qualities in our own communities.
When Volf says, "An advantage of conceiving sin as the practice of exclusion is that it names as sin what often passes as virtue, especially in religious circles," we should take this as a warning. If we read the following pages with an open heart and mind, we will be convicted of how we commit the sin of exclusion, in our neighborhoods, in our school systems, in our faith gatherings, in almost every facet of life we can consider. Just as Jesus came to "afflict the comfortable," as a common saying goes, Volf is about to get down and dirty with us.
The life of Jesus is full of illustrations of the sin of exclusion being turned on its head. "By embracing the 'outcast,' Jesus underscored the 'sinfulness' of the persons and systems that cast them out." But Jesus was not interested in merely opening the doors to anyone who would walk through them. He was interested in redeeming those who came through those open doors. Volf calls this dual activity "re-naming and re-making."
By re-naming, Jesus broke down societal boundaries that separated clean from unclean. "The mission of re-naming what was falsely labeled 'unclean' aimed at abolishing the warped system of exclusion." There are some potential problems with this, because not everything can immediately be re-named as clean. For example, it should always be unclean for a person with power and authority to exercise that power to begin an intimate relationship with one who is powerless. Still, Volf looks to Jesus for examples, and examples of the woman with the issue of blood and a cup shared with a Samaritan back his point.
Re-naming alone is not enough; "Jesus made clean things out of truly unclean things." Jesus re-made the people he came across, each and every one of them broken in one way or another, as we all are. "The mission of re-making impure people into pure people aimed at tearing down the barriers created by wrongdoing in the name of God, the redeemer and restorer of life, whose love knows no boundaries."
Which brings us back to the need to more deeply understand the sin of exclusion. We need to be re-made, and the societal structures we created need to be re-named, because "the source of evil does not lie outside of a person, in impure things, but inside a person, in the impure heart." As we are re-made and re-centered in Christ, so the sin of exclusion becomes identified and eradicated in our lives.
The forms of exclusion that Volf identifies are all too recognizable in our time and age. It is too easy to come up with examples for each one, as he demonstrates in the following pages. Therefore, I will just list them here, with only brief descriptions.
1. Exclusion by assimilation-"You can survive, even thrive, among us, if you become like us; you can keep your life, if you give up your identity."
2. Exclusion by domination-You must understand that you are less than us; you must take the dirtiest jobs that pay the least and live in the most run-down areas of the city; you are not like us.
3. Exclusion as abandonment-We don't go into the inner city, or to the markets where the "poor" people shop; we have our places and they have theirs and they should never intersect.
These sins of exclusion are very good at sneaking into our lives, into our assumptions, into our language. We want to live in a good neighborhood for our children; we need a good school system for our children; we want to go to church where we are comfortable with other people who look like us. Of course, all of those "we's" assume that "we" are different from "they," whoever "they" are. "They" don't want to live in good neighborhoods, or maybe we're truly saying "they" don't deserve to. "They" don't need a good school system for "their" children, "they" should go to "their" own church, "they" should just leave us alone and then everything will be fine.
It is an unfortunate fact of our humanity that we have learned to be frightened and wary of anything, and anyone, who is different, and in that fear, we make assumptions and decisions, and we exclude. Volf very bluntly calls this "evil as ignorance," and catches us red-handed. "Symbolic exclusion is often a distortion of the other, not simply ignorance about the other; it is a willful misconstruction, not mere failure of knowledge. We demonize and bestialize not because we do not know better, but because we refuse to know what is manifest and choose to know what serves our interests." All we can say in response is "guilty as charged."
Why are we "guilty as charged?" Why are we caught so deeply in the sin of exclusion? Volf believes, "The 'practice of exclusion' and the 'language of exclusion' go hand in hand with a whole array of emotional responses to the other." We may have learned to hate what is different, or, with even worse results, learned to be indifferent towards the happenings of the world that do not directly effect ourselves. It is this indifference that allowed the horrors of the Holocaust to run unchecked for so many years; it just didn't effect us in North America.
We also exclude because we need a scapegoat, someone to blame for whatever ills have befallen us. It's "their" fault, not ours, and so we don't have to change anything. "We exclude also because we are uncomfortable with anything that blurs accepted boundaries, disturbs our identities, and disarranges our symbolic cultural maps... We exclude not simply because we like the way things are... or because we hate the way we are... but because we desire what others have."
To put it most simply, Volf says "we exclude because we want to be at the center and be there alone, single-handedly controlling 'the land.'" We want to be King of the Mountain, and that means there's no room for anyone else at the top. This is exclusion in a nutshell.
These descriptions of the sin of exclusion lead me to make one observation: this sin is a luxury of those who are white, middle-class or higher, and especially male. We, because I am part of this more privileged group, have the luxury of deciding where we will live, what education we will receive, what jobs we will take, and where we will spend our money. Those who are not as fortunate suffer from an enforcing of the sin of exclusion, which leads to this sin being recontextualized for their system. Thus the barriers first erected by the privileged are reinforced by those who have been outcast, piling sin upon sin.
In order to more fully recognize when exclusion is sin as opposed to when it is proper judgment of those things which should not be included, we must have a better understanding of exclusion itself. That is Volf's aim in this section; setting out the qualities of sinful exclusion so we can begin to discern those qualities in our own communities.
When Volf says, "An advantage of conceiving sin as the practice of exclusion is that it names as sin what often passes as virtue, especially in religious circles," we should take this as a warning. If we read the following pages with an open heart and mind, we will be convicted of how we commit the sin of exclusion, in our neighborhoods, in our school systems, in our faith gatherings, in almost every facet of life we can consider. Just as Jesus came to "afflict the comfortable," as a common saying goes, Volf is about to get down and dirty with us.
The life of Jesus is full of illustrations of the sin of exclusion being turned on its head. "By embracing the 'outcast,' Jesus underscored the 'sinfulness' of the persons and systems that cast them out." But Jesus was not interested in merely opening the doors to anyone who would walk through them. He was interested in redeeming those who came through those open doors. Volf calls this dual activity "re-naming and re-making."
By re-naming, Jesus broke down societal boundaries that separated clean from unclean. "The mission of re-naming what was falsely labeled 'unclean' aimed at abolishing the warped system of exclusion." There are some potential problems with this, because not everything can immediately be re-named as clean. For example, it should always be unclean for a person with power and authority to exercise that power to begin an intimate relationship with one who is powerless. Still, Volf looks to Jesus for examples, and examples of the woman with the issue of blood and a cup shared with a Samaritan back his point.
Re-naming alone is not enough; "Jesus made clean things out of truly unclean things." Jesus re-made the people he came across, each and every one of them broken in one way or another, as we all are. "The mission of re-making impure people into pure people aimed at tearing down the barriers created by wrongdoing in the name of God, the redeemer and restorer of life, whose love knows no boundaries."
Which brings us back to the need to more deeply understand the sin of exclusion. We need to be re-made, and the societal structures we created need to be re-named, because "the source of evil does not lie outside of a person, in impure things, but inside a person, in the impure heart." As we are re-made and re-centered in Christ, so the sin of exclusion becomes identified and eradicated in our lives.
The forms of exclusion that Volf identifies are all too recognizable in our time and age. It is too easy to come up with examples for each one, as he demonstrates in the following pages. Therefore, I will just list them here, with only brief descriptions.
1. Exclusion by assimilation-"You can survive, even thrive, among us, if you become like us; you can keep your life, if you give up your identity."
2. Exclusion by domination-You must understand that you are less than us; you must take the dirtiest jobs that pay the least and live in the most run-down areas of the city; you are not like us.
3. Exclusion as abandonment-We don't go into the inner city, or to the markets where the "poor" people shop; we have our places and they have theirs and they should never intersect.
These sins of exclusion are very good at sneaking into our lives, into our assumptions, into our language. We want to live in a good neighborhood for our children; we need a good school system for our children; we want to go to church where we are comfortable with other people who look like us. Of course, all of those "we's" assume that "we" are different from "they," whoever "they" are. "They" don't want to live in good neighborhoods, or maybe we're truly saying "they" don't deserve to. "They" don't need a good school system for "their" children, "they" should go to "their" own church, "they" should just leave us alone and then everything will be fine.
It is an unfortunate fact of our humanity that we have learned to be frightened and wary of anything, and anyone, who is different, and in that fear, we make assumptions and decisions, and we exclude. Volf very bluntly calls this "evil as ignorance," and catches us red-handed. "Symbolic exclusion is often a distortion of the other, not simply ignorance about the other; it is a willful misconstruction, not mere failure of knowledge. We demonize and bestialize not because we do not know better, but because we refuse to know what is manifest and choose to know what serves our interests." All we can say in response is "guilty as charged."
Why are we "guilty as charged?" Why are we caught so deeply in the sin of exclusion? Volf believes, "The 'practice of exclusion' and the 'language of exclusion' go hand in hand with a whole array of emotional responses to the other." We may have learned to hate what is different, or, with even worse results, learned to be indifferent towards the happenings of the world that do not directly effect ourselves. It is this indifference that allowed the horrors of the Holocaust to run unchecked for so many years; it just didn't effect us in North America.
We also exclude because we need a scapegoat, someone to blame for whatever ills have befallen us. It's "their" fault, not ours, and so we don't have to change anything. "We exclude also because we are uncomfortable with anything that blurs accepted boundaries, disturbs our identities, and disarranges our symbolic cultural maps... We exclude not simply because we like the way things are... or because we hate the way we are... but because we desire what others have."
To put it most simply, Volf says "we exclude because we want to be at the center and be there alone, single-handedly controlling 'the land.'" We want to be King of the Mountain, and that means there's no room for anyone else at the top. This is exclusion in a nutshell.
These descriptions of the sin of exclusion lead me to make one observation: this sin is a luxury of those who are white, middle-class or higher, and especially male. We, because I am part of this more privileged group, have the luxury of deciding where we will live, what education we will receive, what jobs we will take, and where we will spend our money. Those who are not as fortunate suffer from an enforcing of the sin of exclusion, which leads to this sin being recontextualized for their system. Thus the barriers first erected by the privileged are reinforced by those who have been outcast, piling sin upon sin.
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