The myth of redemptive violence thus uses the traditions, rites, customs, and symbols of Christianity in order to enhance the power of a wealthy elite and the goals of the nation narrowly defined. It has no interest in compassion for the poor, or for more equitable economic arrangements, or for the love of enemies. It merely uses the shell of religion — a shell that can be filled with the blasphemous doctrine of the national security state. Emptied of their prophetic vitality, these outer forms are then manipulated to legitimate a power system intent on the preservation of privilege at all costs.
Why then do large masses of the non privileged submit to such a myth? Why, for example, do blue-collar workers, who are among the most victimized by the ruling elite, continue not only to support their oppressors but to be among their most vociferous fans? The answer is quite simple: the promise of salvation.
And then a little further down:
The myth of redemptive violence is nationalism become absolute. This myth speaks for God; it does not listen for God to speak. It invokes the sovereignty of God as its own; it does not entertain the prophetic possibility of radical denunciation and negation by God. It misappropriates the language, symbols, and scriptures of Christianity. It does not seek God in order to change; it claims God in order to prevent change. Its God is not the impartial ruler of all nations but a biased and partial tribal god worshiped as an idol. Its metaphor is not the journey but a fortress. Its symbol is not the cross but a rod of iron. It’s offer is not forgiveness but victory. Its good news is not the unconditional love of enemies but their final liquidation. Its salvation is not a new heart but a successful foreign policy. It usurps the revelation of God’s purposes for humanity in Jesus. It is blasphemous. It is idolatrous.
This is only chapter one. I have a feeling there are more quotes to come.
One of the challenges a significant reading habit provides is where to keep all your books. While nearly all my fiction and a portion of my non-fiction comes from (and goes back to) the public library, when it comes to theology I still end up buying a fair number of books. And since book sales are no respecter of reading plans, my book inventory grows regularly as book inventories are wont to do.
For the past several years my to-read pile has grown next to my bed. It started on the shelf under my bedside stand, then became two piles on that shelf, then added a pile in front of the bedside stand, and then a second pile next to that one. This approach became not just a tripping hazard but also a purchasing hazard (I have bought at least a couple duplicates) and a reading hazard, since it’s very easy to forget what you have available to read when it’s buried in a pile.
This weekend provided time to finally do something about it. Becky helped turn my initial concept into something actually workable for our bedroom, and this afternoon I was able to put up two shelves and populate them with books.
A row of hooks under the lower shelf provide convenient spots for a robe and pajamas, and with the books right in my line of sight every day I will have regular opportunities to be reminded of books I own and want to read. (And to be reminded of how many unread books I have and that I should really think twice before buying another book.)
The shelves are simple from a design standpoint. Shelf brackets from Home Depot purportedly hold 150+ lbs per pair. They are well anchored into the wall – one side directly into the studs, the other side using heavy-duty drywall anchors into a double layer of drywall. As an engineer I’m fairly certain I over-designed them and they’ll hold up just fine; as a cautious engineer I’ll still be mildly nervous for a week or two until I get comfortable that they are, indeed, holding up.
Now I have some reading to do.
(Yes, I know I have Infinite Jest on the shelf. And that it’s a book everybody buys and nobody actually reads. I read about 50 pages of it once. Maybe I’ll get back to it. It’s a sunk cost at this point.)
America’s Independence Day seems a strange holiday to “celebrate” this year. Our country is in turmoil with racial protests in cities both large and small. Our government’s mismanagement of the COVID-19 pandemic has left our country first meriting the world’s scorn and eventually its pity. Our people are so polarized that even wearing a mask is viewed as a political statement.
Yesterday President Trump gave a speech in front of Mount Rushmore, a site where white Americans literally engraved their political heroes on top of the sacred hills of the Native Americans they displaced. In his speech he declared that this summer’s protestors – a group that includes me – are a “dangerous movement”, a “radical assault”, “far-left fascism”, a “left-wing cultural revolution designed to overthrow the American Revolution”, resulting in “the very definition of totalitarianism”.
Me? I’d just like to see some responsible leadership. I’d like to not have black people get killed by police at ridiculous rates. I‘d like to have more white people like me start coming to grips with how recent (and current) our racist systems were and still are. And I’d like us to start changing those systems.
My Christian faith should be common ground even with those who see politics very differently. Yet this year there are so many, especially among the white evangelical group, who don’t even seem to share a common reality. Inconvenient facts are “fake news”. Any wrong that the President does is either overblown by the media or justifiable. (The ends are what are important, right?)
How can you sit quietly to maintain the perception of unity in the fellowship when it requires you to not talk about applying your faith to current events?
That thing where Jesus said he would set brother against brother seems a lot more real when your brother is so frustrated with your application of faith to your politics that he isn’t talking to you. But then I wonder whether he’s quoting the same verse thinking about me. And I wonder how we ever get past it.
There is no city fireworks display this year and I’m finding no joy in the neighbors’ best attempts to make up for it. Not so many Independence Days ago I would drag the kids out into the oppressive humidity and battle mosquitos just so we could enjoy the fireworks with oohs and awe. Tonight the explosions just bring acrid smoke and unwelcome noise late into the tired night.
What will next year’s celebration look like? What will we be celebrating? Will we be any less tired? Any more hopeful?
Too long have I had my dwelling among those who hate peace. I am for peace; but when I speak, they are for war.
July 1st means that we’re halfway through 2020 already… what a year. I looked back and realized I haven’t posted any reading compendiums yet this year. And to be honest, the reading has been a little slow. You’d think a work-from-home pandemic would mean more time for reading, but in reality it’s turned out to leave fewer brain cycles for processing books. But I have done some reading. Rather than list everything I’ve read (which you can see on Goodreads if you really want to), I’ll just list some highlights.
The Education of an Idealist: A Memoir by Samantha Power I loved this book so much. Power is a fascinating woman. Born in Ireland, came to America as a child, became a journalist and human rights advocate more or less on her own in her 20s, latched on to the Obama campaign in 2008 as an adviser on human rights issues and ended up serving as the US Ambassador to the United Nations. Really well written and engaging read. If Joe Biden gets elected this fall, Power seems like a great candidate to be Secretary of State in his administration.
The chorus of this tune has resonated in my head a lot this week.
Theodosia writes me a letter every day I’m keeping her bed warm while her husband is away He’s on the British side in Georgia He’s trying to keep the colonies in line But he can keep all of Georgia Theodosia, she’s mine
Love doesn’t discriminate Between the sinners And the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry And we break And we make our mistakes And if there’s a reason I’m by her side When so many have tried Then I’m willing to wait for it I’m willing to wait for it
My grandfather was a fire and brimstone preacher But there are things that the Homilies and hymns won’t teach ya My mother was a genius My father commanded respect When they died they left no instructions Just a legacy to protect
Death doesn’t discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway We rise and we fall And we break And we make our mistakes And if there’s a reason I’m still alive When everyone who loves me has died I’m willing to wait for it I’m willing to wait for it
I am the one thing in life I can control I am inimitable I am an original I’m not falling behind or running late I’m not standing still I am lying in wait
Hamilton faces an endless uphill climb He has something to prove He has nothing to lose Hamilton’s pace is relentless He wastes no time What is it like in his shoes?
Hamilton doesn’t hesitate He exhibits no restraint He takes and he takes and he takes And he keeps winning anyway He changes the game He plays and he raises the stakes And if there’s a reason He seems to thrive when so few survive, then Goddamnit
I’m willing to wait for it I’m willing to wait for it…
Life doesn’t discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway We rise and we fall and we break And we make our mistakes And if there’s a reason I’m still alive When so many have died Then I’m willin’ to…
(“Wait for It“, from Hamilton, words and music by Lin-Manuel Miranda)
Culling my list down to 10 albums was a challenge. Here are a few also-rans that just didn’t quite make the cut:
The Morning – Andrew Osenga This one got a lot of play time from me, and I spent a lot of time playing its songs. Andy O’s solo stuff continues to be meaningful to me, but this one hit the sweet spot where our life experiences aligned and I felt like he was writing about the things that I’d write about if only I had any skill at writing songs.
In Rainbows – Radiohead Radiohead is another band I came to mid-stream. In Rainbows is not usually listed as anybody’s favorite Radiohead album, but it was the gateway for me into their music. I dig it.
All That You Can’t Leave Behind – U2 Same story – this was the gateway for me into U2’s music. Such a good record.
Hamilton Original Broadway Cast Soundtrack – Lin-Manuel Miranda and cast All that stuff I said about my love for smart wordplay? Hamilton has that in spades. More than any other record I can think of. My love for Hamilton knows no bounds.
I’m playing keys for the church livestream this morning, which in the end results in me having a bunch of time to mess around with a keyboard between rehearsal and the stream itself. Put a few of us musicians together and you never know what you’re gonna get.
So here’s the musical idea I came up with this morning: Kermit the Frog, singing Rainbow Connection… in a jazz style, a la Ella Fitzgerald.
Funny part is, it kinda worked. I was gonna try to do a chorus scatting but my good sense got the better of me. Our sound guy apparently has it all recorded, though… one of these days he’s gonna do a blooper reel and it’s gonna be hilarious and awesome and scary all at the same time.
Since I started working from home 8 weeks ago, my morning routine has changed. No more gym, reading and writing in the morning instead.
Also, WordPress is impressed with my 10-day posting streak. It’s easy to write about music. But a lazy bullet points post will get me to 11.
(Insert Spinal Tap reference here.)
Saturday mornings have become cinnamon roll mornings. It’s not helping my waistline but it’s a nice way to celebrate the weekend.
The siding guys are done with our house. It looks great and I’m enthused that I will not need to paint the outside of the house again.
I’m thankful that we have local coffee roasters still doing their thing because Walmart-brand coffee isn’t the greatest.
I’m kinda gonna miss the siding guys, though, since the noise and bustle of them working made it not feel so creepily quiet every day.
I bought a Bibliotheca Bible boxed set when they did the kickstarter several years ago. It seemed like a cool idea but I ended up not being a fan of the translation they used and they quickly just started collecting dust on my shelf.
This week somebody on Facebook wanted to buy them. They are like new other than the New Testament volume which has some minor notes I put in the first 5 chapters of Matthew. Oddly enough that person preferred to buy an incomplete set rather than buy a NT volume with a few notes in it.
Going to the post office to mail these books will be the first time I’ve gone anywhere all week.
These bullet points aren’t as random as they should be. It feels like a lazy way to do a partial narrative without any through line. What the heck, it’s 2020, we all deserve some slack.