God and the President: A Theology of Criticism

God And The President: A Theology of Criticism

The United States has known some great Presidents that attained near universal respect and trust. In his time George Washington was recognized as a man of honor without peer. Even those who disagreed with his policies trusted his integrity. Abraham Lincoln was elevated to high office with minimal national reputation, but soon won the friendship of his political competitors, and became recognized as a model of some of humanity’s highest instincts. Others have achieved great acclaim, but in the pantheon of Presidents, these two emit almost divine radiance. To criticize Washington was thought to be akin to blasphemy, and Lincoln, when assassinated, was acclaimed as the “savior” of our country.

Yet all this notwithstanding, Thomas Jefferson resigned from Washington’s Cabinet and became a leader of the opposition voices and as a result was smeared as an atheist, an epithet which, if it were today, would be equivalent to calling him a Communist. When Jefferson ran for President in 1800 against the Federalist incumbent, John Adams, he was vilified for extolling the French, who were then transitioning from the “reign of terror” to the dictatorship of Napoleon. In fact, France was our “enemy,” and we came very close to going to war with them under Adams. When Jefferson won the election, the Federalists thought he was going to ruin the country. Today he is rated in most polls as one of the top three Presidents of all time.

Abraham Lincoln, though known as an easily liked personality, almost did not get nominated by his own party for a second term. The emancipation proclamation, the elevation of a winning general (Ulysses Grant), and Gettysburg deflected disaffection with the Administration and enabled Lincoln to begin a second term and live long enough to be credited with the adulation he undoubtedly deserved. But don’t forget that in l864 he first had to defeat a candidate who had obtained the nomination of the other major party on a platform to exit the war short of military victory.

The moral of my historical prompt is: questioning Presidents is part of what America means. It is not unpatriotic; in fact, it is part of our heritage. To not exercise responsible criticism on a regular basis would, in my opinion, be to trade away an important ballast that keeps democracy afloat.

Now for some further commentary on the morality of criticism. In recent days I have heard the following comments from two different individuals.

“We should trust President Bush because he is the President.”
“Bush is right on Iraq because he is President.”

This is cousin to the idea that God should be acknowledged because God is God. We are small and God is big. Our salvation lies in this sufficiency. It is enough that God is God. To look for more--to seek the knowledge of good and evil--is considered the original sin. By analogy--the President is President; trust him and don’t question him, for he knows what we can’t, or shouldn‘t, know. There is a patina of truth here.

But I see two problems with this outlook. First, it depends on the idea that Adam and Eve “fell” because they failed to stay in their subservient place. I don’t believe God (with the rule against eating of the “Tree”) was trying to teach rules of order and hierarchy. The original sin was a violation of procedure, stepping out alone. It was not the sin of rule-breaking. The purpose for the rule was not to shut down knowledge quests; it was to guide us in the “way” to know.

I arrive at this by scripture. Jesus pointed that he was the “way, the truth and the life“; we come to the Father through his model. And he continually implored his disciples to know God as he did. The truth shall make us free, the clear implication being that we should seek and know the truth (investigate and find).

Note also that in the Garden of Eden, God was not upset at Adam and Eve’s curiosity. God’s reaction was disappointment at the lost communion. The shock (to both humans and God) was the loss of intimacy in their walks together in the cool of the day. If God had wanted blind obedience (follow the President because he is the President) God would have been satisfied with angels and not messed with freewill. God, however, created humans for mutual fellowship. God wants to commingle with us, to elevate us, to share his power with us (Jesus said his disciples, as his followers, would do greater things than he.). God wants us to “know” him, not follow blindly. God is a team player par excellence. God’s only requirement (by his Tree rule) is that we don’t go off on our own in the pursuit.

By analogy, I think it is appropriate to question the President’s proclivity to secrecy. George Bush does not want communion with either me or my congressperson. In contrast, God wants to be known and to unveil the divine mysteries. God is not afraid to be discovered. God is transparent for those who have eyes to see. If the President, like God, wants me to follow him, he will honor my intelligence and welcome my curiosity, for he would want me to know what he knows. Just as I may fellowship regularly with God, the President should regularly fellowship with me. In this shared communication, we will agree if any sensitive information should be withheld because we have the same agenda. The President, like God, is big, but, as with God, I would be welcomed into his chambers. To me the awesomeness of God is God’s availability. The awesomeness of the Presidency is that citizens have umbilical connection to it.

The second problem with the God is God--recognize your smallness before him--approach, is that I am not small to God. Without God I am nothing, but this is not smallness. Au contraire, I am everything to God. God’s grace is not patronization. God is zealous but not arrogant. God wants to let me in, not keep me out, and I mean all the way in. The President and the people occupy the same chambers. Presidents occupy the Oval Office on lease from the people. Presidential power is well delineated in the Constitution, and the details are in the hands of Congress. Through Congress, I am in the Oval Office; and if the President follows God’s model, he won’t mind if I walk in on him.

If God is not standoffish (and he isn’t if you ask the Jews), then neither is it immoral (or unpatriotic) to question the President directly and expect honest dialogue. After all isn’t this exactly what the Old Testament Prophets were well known to have practiced personally. Or does America follow a different heritage?

The Christian Right is not hesitant to remind us that America is a Christian nation. And if we betray the principles on which we stand our great country will crumble into immorality and impotence. There are two intermixed strands that make up the American heritage cord, one of which the Radical Right distrusts, even pilloryizes. The approach that “God is God” and, by extrapolation, the President is President, so accept it, is relatable to one of these components, but ironically not in the way the Radical Right thinks. It might surprise some to discover they have hold of the wrong strand, and are misappropriating it.

The two elements braided together in our history are Enlightenment and Christianity. Despite the evangelical overtones of Newt Gingrich’s “Contract with America,” and the evangelical touchstone of a born-again President guiding Republican strategies, and the warnings of those who would hijack democracy, the God-is-big-and-we-are-small philosophy that tells us to stay out of the arena where important things are decided traces back to Greek rationalism.

The ancient Greek thinkers had their own way of mixing religion and politics, and some political scientists today mine from them their ideas of democracy. But the greatest of the Greek philosophers was Plato, who felt that only those who had the advantage of superior education, which at the end of the day were aristocrats, should run the government. The rest of the population should accept lower places and defer to those special individuals at the top.

Plato’s ideal Republic was not democratic, and the Radical Right is not either. Despite the claims of many neoconservatives, they do not follow the Judeo/Jesus notion of God. They misunderstand the sources of American tradition and, in my opinion misread God to boot.

If America is to get through our current crises of constitutional, moral, environmental, and terrorist threats, sound theology and accurate historical knowledge will be the reason. If one wants to posit that Christianity is the true source of America’s heritage, one should not couch it in undemocratic terms while dressing Christian theology in pagan clothes, unless the resultant confusion serves other purposes.

How To Lose By Winning

How to Lose by Winning

I recently received an email presenting an essay by General Vernon Chong entitled “This WAR is REAL.” The sender had checked the veracity of the authorship and found the writer is a retired Air Force surgeon. As an eloquent defender of our war on terrorism, Dr. Chong is more articulate than our elected Inspirer-In-Chief, so I read his essay hungrily.

After reading the seven pages, I realized Chong had encapsulated his whole argument in his first sentence: “To get out of a difficulty, one usually must go through it.” On this wisdom his perspective stands. But it is half-cooked wisdom. The idea seems to be that when in trouble, push ahead until you break through on the other side. There is no hint in this adage that one might need to make adjustments in the face of terrorist threats. To Dr. Chong, terrorism is not a trial, it is a threat--a key distinction. Rather than learn from trials, Chong would have us respond from old lessons.

Nowhere does our essayist question the adequacy of old lessons, despite the international success of terrorism, which he graphically describes. Chong’s answer, his response, to the threat is plug on, “go through it” with increased determination.

We have learned that when President Bush speaks, we have to put his words on hold until we have better, more accurate information. Dr. Chong does no better; he speaks resoundingly about the fearsomeness of terror and pronounces the end of western civilization if we don’t win this war, now, while we have the power. Power being the key word. Chong gives a good informational account of terrorist havoc, but his wagon is too creaky for a load of panic. If we have power, why panic?

The problem for Chong and Bush is they have an adolescent’s understanding of power. They only recognize power in military intimidation. To “win” in war, your enemy has to stop fighting. You have not won until they stop. Yet sometimes the strongest country does the stopping. So where was the intimidation factor? Often in history two fighting countries have decided that both sides win by ending the (military) fighting.

Neither Chong nor Bush define what “win” means, but they would have us believe that winning is only determined by who fired the last bullet, the last man standing. So keep shooting; as Chong says it, “go through it.” That is what army generals say; that is their job. We should be glad that soldiers have this determination, for that is what we hire them to do.

But I am not a soldier; I am in tune with other considerations. And this is why our Constitutional writers made our Chief an elected civilian.

In addition to a barebones concept of winning, our essayist entertains other vaguenesses. Just as President Bush ignores the generals, the Baker Study report, even departing Secretary Rumsfeld, who have said our troops aren’t and can’t win militarily in Iraq, so Chong spurs us on to win without even mentioning Iraq in his essay. Bush and Chong both practice the art of advertising a bum product in mislabeled packaging. We are not fighting a war in Iraq (look in vain for a Declaration), we are fighting a War on Terror (Bush). We are fighting a war in Iraq (look in vain for the essay’s mention of it), but, by the way, we “must go through it (Chong); and we must “succeed” (Bush). We are spending 2 billion dollars a week fighting somewhere. By proxy Iraq must be where .

The electorate, the polls, the generals, the Congressional Study Group, and numerous high level individuals agree that a new approach is needed. George Bush is currently doing a dance on the matter. Chong’s advise is not what we need at this juncture of failure in Iraq. No alert person would disagree with his ringing warning about the seriousness of death threats by terrorists, but his pandering to fears about the end of western, non-Muslim civilization is overdrawn. This is the kind of language a military man resorts to when the reputation of his profession is maligned and his Commander-in-Chief is questioned, and he has no faith in the strength, cleverness or energy of a principled, democratic people who have met two centuries of crises without the panic of self-doubt.

I won’t impose upon you the length of Chong’s discourse, but I will presume to point out a couple of flaws in his argument that may help us recognize the bankruptcy and danger of “stay the course” strategy, so that we can wisely scrutinize the manner in which President Bush dresses his “new way.” If the President in the next few weeks sounds like Chong, beware.

At least Dr. Chong acknowledges that war can not be “clean, lawful and honorable.” This is classic “end justifies the means.” In fact, he goes farther and says the means is the end. The Constitution is more than irrelevant; get it “out of your head.” Successful warring means intimidation and military superiority, and this is the pillar on which our country stands. The concepts enumerated in the Bill of Rights are useless in the face of threats.

This is equal to saying the only friend love, beauty, and happiness have is the hate, ugliness and despair of war--so plow through it.

Is the devil a trial or a threat? Chong votes for the latter, and thereby hands the terrorists their victory. Is God so defenseless? Dr. Chong’s message is simple-minded. (Simpleness is clear sighted; simple-mindedness is horse-blinded.) We have to win this war, he says. That is all there is to it. Such language is so simplistic it shouts its blockheadedness. To Chong every violent act is a component of war.

Along with this cloudiness, he offers no explanation for what he means by “winning.” . Chong gets around the widely understood reality that we can’t “win” militarily in Iraq by never mentioning Iraq. He stays on the high ground (the altitudes) of War on Terrorism. (Remember he was a surgeon, not a combat officer.)

Chong states that the Muslin terrorist goal is to kill “all non-Muslins.” Note how he conflates Muslims and terrorists as a unit. And he states that the U.S. is “the last bastion of defense” for the entire non-Muslim world. The future of western civilization depends on us “winning” the war (in Iraq presumably, for that is where our troops are); and we must get it clear in our minds that we have only one way to do it--we are up against “war.” We must fight as we have in our glorious past (as if nothing in our past is glorious except our wars). As in World War II, we must rally to the attack, drop all silliness about civil rights, and give the enemy (any suspicious Muslim) doses of their own medicine--all means of torture, even death.

And we should drop our scruples of democracy in this time of crisis. Regarding such scruples, Chong notes that our liberties have weathered the emergency measures of our past. But we might note that George Bush’s constitutional deviations have been more systemic and began before 9/11.

Chong also implies that Christianity is but a cloak donned by politicians with bigger agendas (he calls Hitler a Christian), so don‘t bring religion into it. Bush tries to have it both ways. He is a Christian leader who fights terrorists in ways they understand. I can’t judge George Bush’s personal piety, but I don’t see Christ in his politics.

Chong conflates the war on terror with war in Iraq and hopes you don’t notice the subtleness of the admixture. Maybe he learned this from Bush’s (Carl Rove’s?) clever implications that Saddam Hussein sponsored 9/11 without actually spelling out his name. Chong compounds his conflation by then saying the critics of “the war and/or the Administration” (he must mean Iraq, for that is where the Commander-in-chief has “decided” to fight) “would literally like to see us lose” (the War on Terror). Do you see the insidiousness of conflation?

The emotion of Chong’s eloquence, when the narrowness (the error) of his plea is undressed, becomes an indictment of all Americans who won’t panic. Chong serves as a surrogate for those who preach that if we continue to lose in Iraq, our country is done for. If we believe this, we deserve the prediction. How does he think such pessimism can bolster our resolve to resist terrorism?

His argument is eloquent half-wisdom, which under its wrapping harbors purblind misdirection. I don’t think we have heard the end of it though.

Lincolns Are Made By Ford

Lincolns Are Made By Ford

As our nation absorbs the news of Gerald Ford’s death, there is an almost palpable sense of relief that amidst the current controversies involving corruption, deception and immorality, we have a prominent political leader about whom we can feel good. As President, Gerald Ford established his place in history not by championing a cause or articulating new vision, but by modeling integrity and by steadying the ship.

As I listen to the commentators assessing Ford’s administration, I notice that first and most often mentioned is his act of pardoning Richard Nixon. We are far from a consensus on the wisdom of Ford’s decision. At the time, the criticism was acid, and Ford’s ratings in the polls plummeted. Indeed, many analysts feel it cost him the election in his race against Carter 2 ½ years later. The commemorations at this time of his burial begin with the question of whether Ford was right to do it. Questions of “right” are usually tinged with emotion and judgments of who was hurt or helped. I notice the eulogizers going back and forth, their answers depending on what they think about the results. If they feel Nixon did not deserve pardon and should have suffered more, they do not like it. If they think the nation pined for release from Watergate’s sordid grip and needed a time to heal, they like it.

Many seem to think of the pardoning power as a kind of anomaly--that it serves no useful political purpose (unless for the culprit‘s mother). They don’t understand how the pardoning power got slipped into the Constitution. In fact, I heard one respondent insist that, despite the pardon’s presence in the Constitution, the President really does not have the power legitimately, because it is at odds with the revolutionary generation’s distaste for royal acts of tyranny. This, in reverse, is the same kind of confused thinking and disrespect of the Constitution that has led to undeclared Presidential wars. One says the President can’t unilaterally pardon, the other says the President can unilaterally wage war--the Constitution be damned in both cases. If we don’t like pardons, we should either figure out why the Constitution writers thought it important, or exercise our greater wisdom and take it out. But before we do anything drastic let’s look more closely at what Gerald Ford, of all people--a local boy who lucked out and was appointed President--had to say about it.

Few speak of the nature of the deed itself, and what it meant to the pardoner. In his pardoning statement, viewed nationally on television, Ford not only explained why he was issuing it, but spoke about how he came to the decision, and why he felt it appropriate. The decision was birthed in introspection. He acknowledged that, to know what was right, he needed the help of God and the supporting prayers of the people. He weighed the effect of a pardon on both Richard Nixon and on the nation, concluding that whether Nixon merited a pardon took second place to the benefit the nation would receive. He felt concern for the effect of Nixon’s disgrace on the ex-President’s health. And he saw the Nixon family’s troubles as “an American tragedy in which we have all played a part.” In Ford’s mind, sealing the book on the episode would best insure domestic tranquility and wake us from a national nightmare. This President knew he would be vilified for his decision, but saw a need to sever the national preoccupation with courts, lawyers, and legal maneuverings.

The pardon was a flanking move, but it was a human move first. As political strategy it was suspect, but the new President explained that “my first consideration will always be to be true to my own convictions and my own conscience.” He saw pardon as the “right” thing and was not ashamed to say this conviction was rooted in a spiritual understanding. He used scripture to explain what he meant. Paraphrasing James 2:18 (correctly), he said that , “{I} as a humble servant of god, will receive justice without mercy if I fail to show mercy.” He wanted to set an example for the nation to follow.

When it comes right down to it, Nixon will always be the villain of Watergate. The evidence of wrongdoing is well established. Initial reaction to the pardon was skepticism about Ford’s motives. If there was a “deal” made, Ford is guilty of villainy by association. Ford insisted there was no deal. Diehard cynicism that would disbelieve him should wane in the face of an appreciation of the Constitutional writers’ intentions, an enlightened acceptance of the pardon principle, and the solidity and consistency of Gerald Ford’s character.

With some distance from the grappling moments, we may be able to see Gerald Ford not only as a “nice guy,” but as a hero who understood what our Founding Fathers thought about what it takes to uphold a great democratic nation. One of our greatest Presidents in another time of war, 140 years ago, spoke of the enemy with a distinct absence of malice. When President Ford stepped into the high office he assured us he was a Ford not a Lincoln. But I believe he has shown our generation that both versions come from the same manufacturer.

Ironically the death of Saddam Hussein the same week as President Ford’s passing distinctly limns for us the difference between a hero and a villain. We learned from Bob Woodward this week that Gerald Ford, in a private interview, had expressed that he would not have ordered an attack on Hussein. The public response to the execution of Saddam Hussein, while Ford lies in state, may reveal whether we understand what Ford was made of and how ready we are to canonize him for infusing democracy with spiritual insight and political courage for pardoning an enemy of the state.

War Is Hell

War Is Hell

As everyone knows, war is hell. But not for everyone; only for those shooting at each other and the women and children caught in the crossfire. War is not hell for the political leaders who decide we should go to war, for they are philosophers. They explain that war is a hell that some (not themselves) must go through in order for the rest of us to enjoy security and freedom in the end, and they provide us with the philosophical reasons for engagement. Because war is such a low and dirty road, the justification must be appealing and persuasively high-minded. So it is couched in terms of national security and the future of democracy. Our country and our freedom depend on willing fighters. Once the fight begins, the dead and maimed soldiers are made heroes, and the massive destruction is masked by the glow of the glorious accomplishment of our high goals. While we are winning the war, the wisdom of fighting appears manifest. Those of us who did not “go,” if we are patriotic, are convinced. And we would speak for the unanimous consent of the dead soldiers. As a hushed prelude, the hell of death becomes a reward of battle. If a soldier goes through this hell and lives, he is expected to keep his story to himself and not frighten the majority of the population for whom war was not hell.

Still, war remains a poignant hell for the innocent civilians, mostly women and children, who face death in combat zones, as in Iraq, without choice and with no protection. For them the hell of war comes from all directions and without name. Why is it that war is begun by those who are assured of being alive when it is over, while those who contend with the fear and immorality of killing and give their lives as “collateral damage” have no choice in the matter?

When war is finished and we have won, we will busy ourselves with congratulatory stories about how right were our reasons and how heroic our efforts--and the hell is forgotten.

Let’s drop the charade. Let’s look at war objectively. The current one in Iraq will do nicely as a model. The first step is to ignore the philosophizing screen that our political leaders, who proposed the war, offer. The polls show that as Americans are waking up to the “sell” they were given, it becomes clear that the Iraq attack was an unnecessary and self-impaling move. It did not help our war on terrorism; it has burdened our weakened economy; it has torn at the fabric of democracy; it has sullied our morality; and we clearly did not ingratiate ourselves with the Iraqi people. Why go through hell for all that? We can skewer ourselves just as effectively without war.

Burning Truth At The Stake

Burning Truth At The Stake

What you are about to read is bald-faced heresy--dangerous sacrilege that challenges a revered belief system . So don’t believe a word of it. Begin stacking the kindling around the public stake. Still it is true.

Do I hear you shouting, “Heresy by definition can’t be truth. Are you crazy?”

Calm down! I haven’t even made my statement yet. Taste before you judge.

Here it is--“Solid, incontrovertible facts do not necessarily lead to truth. The Christian Bible, for example, is a location of truth, but not literally.”

Now you can start yelling. However, if you are not the disputatious type, you may prefer to just bow your head in sadness, and read no further.

But you need to hear me out in order to know how to discredit me. Look for the card whose removal will collapse the house I build. But don’t hastily grab just any card to pull on. Remember that I said you should not believe this heresy.

But, you may reply, why would you advise anyone to not believe what you think is true? Because--take a careful look at the two key words, “facts” and “believe.” All facts are isolated items embedded together in a context. A fact may be solid, but its meaning lies outside itself. Literalism only determines what was said and how the speaker arranged his words. The soundness of my house of truth does not depend on the cards (the word-facts) I use. If the card stack collapses, truth remains, and you won‘t despair because you had an idea of what the truth was anyway.

As for “believing,” belief is a choice--a personal choice. If you accept an arrangement of facts in literal form, presented to you documentarily as the truth and the only truth, you are putting your faith in someone else’s pitch. Of course, the standard answer is that God only “uses” the sacred writers as His own voice. So we should believe the scripture because it is the incontrovertible word of God. But if the Bible were God’s exact words, we should all be able to agree on what He (and not She) said. If this were the case, we would need neither priests nor theologians; not even the New Testament, because Jesus found the Torah to be sufficient reading.

As Professor Christian de Quincy boldly tells his students, “Don’t believe a word I say. I don’t want you to believe anything. Not what I say, or what anybody else says. I want you to learn a new way of using your mind that liberates you from “facts” and “beliefs” by focusing on your own direct, moment-to-moment experience. This is where your real power resides; this is the way to wisdom.” (Radical Knowing, p. 12)

This statement is jolting, but if you add the acknowledgement that individual experience may be distorted by mental deficiencies and emotional disturbances, it still stands that you know better than anyone else what resolves your confusion. If you don’t want to be wise and know truth, then sell your supple, creative, god-like self to someone who has truth already outlined for you, available no doubt now on a CD. (I would check for a money back guarantee.)

Truth does not depend on the words we use to describe it. Truth and heresy are not opposites. Heresy is only a manner of speech. To say truth wrongly does not make truth wrong. The task is to know truth first, then find a way to say it. Here is my way.

What is Truth

In the Judeo-Christian tradition but not unique to it--the content of the sacred text, the Bible, was lived by humans and spoken before it was written. More than dictum, the Bible is a mirror, a reflection, recollections of experiences. It is the telling of people’s stories. Even the literalists acknowledge that God speaks to them with different messages when they read particular passages at different moments, at different sittings. For real life, the enduring richness of sacred writings lies in what is between the lines.

Lecturing is not God’s pedagogy of choice. Rather, God draws and attracts us as we see ourselves in other peoples’ stories. Even Jesus’ “sermon” on the mount was a “talk” from the heart, not found in the strictures of the Talmud. The lessons of life are not static, for wisdom is not quantified and doled out. Truth is certainly well-connected and dependable, but it is flowing and experiential, and never finished--just as God, who has no beginning, is never finished.

On their face, many sacred texts are frankly boring. But while a layer of semantic fog may obscure truth’s beauty, still its luminosity shimmers beneath any cover thrown over it. Truth cannot lack appeal, so we should be able to recognize it. But until we have seen it, all efforts to craft a description of enshrouded truth, in print or speech, must pale before actual experience.

To convince the unseeing, one can only resort to verbal helps, such as logic, or interpretation. But logic is cold, and interpretation is second-hand. Better is evidence, which needs no verbalizing. But evidence must be marshaled. Evidence-collecting is an art form. All arguments are artifacts hanging on racks before us. We pick according to our taste or background. But when this leads us into confusion or leaves us in depression, we look for outside help. This can come in two forms--a charismatic authority figure, or quiet companionship of one who “has been through it.” Truth is elemental and simple. If it has to be explained, many of us would not “get it." So the way to test the truth factor of our experiences is in community and relationships. We most likely will find truth if we share and compare, rather than subscribe and imbibe.

I can hear your objections. You would say to me, “Then there is no real, final truth. Surely someone must have the truth. God must want to deliver it to us.” If all assertions are mere proof-texting (selective argumentation), the truth remains hidden in the din of voices. So are we left with only two possible conclusions--either there is no truth, or the truth can’t be shown without bias? No, Truth can be shown, but it is not that which is just challenge-proof, or that which sits atop a mountain to be thundered out to valley dwellers. Nor is Truth that which wins all debates. And Truth is not conveyed by wit and sparkle.

Truth delivers conviction, not the other way around. We tend to go at it backward. We read biblical passages as packaged samples of God, as disks to be inserted into our CD player. We buy the answers (books or discs) first and then try to match them up with our questions. If the fit isn’t quite right, we make it work, because the package cover said “sent by God.” In the process we unwittingly become the creators of God, because we decide ahead of time what packaging company to order from.

The better approach is to find truth as we experience it, as it “comes” to us. We then can verify the insights by the resonation we sense while reading the sacred text. In other words we own the questions first, which enables us to recognize the right answers as they appear to us. Don’t worry about truth getting distorted this way. Truth, in itself, is undistortable. The Bible is not a mail order catalogue of devotional snippets “guaranteed to change your life.” The Bible presents the living, untidy account of people experiencing God. The “connection” with its truths, its believability, comes from our sense of identifying with the stories of people searching for understanding just as we are doing. When we connect with Truth this way, we can be sure that we see God. Jesus expressed this when he said he was the “way, the truth, and the life.” We come to God--“truth“--by the “way” of “life” that Jesus demonstrated. Biological life is the sensory experience of God‘s flow. Spiritual life is the yielding to, the acknowledging of the attractive force behind material processes. This does not make God ambiguous; it makes God real. Anyone can experience this, and you don’t have to be a “writer” to tell about it.

The Search

So how do we initiate the search? We want Truth--this real God--to float on the ocean surface where our boat bobs, like an easily (literally) marked buoy; but instead it lies deep. How can we know where to dive, and what to look for?

Well, one can ask around, attend some workshops, if you have money--there is no lack of willing guides. Some of this may be very helpful, but there is a more direct way.

We can find Truth within. Truth is what we know, as we know it. We know truth because it makes us free. It is what unbinds us. Just as we are not all tied-up the same way, so each is freed in a unique way. Bondage comes in variety packs. Those who are persuaded by my description of truth are those who have known bondage as I describe it. It is not my powers of description that convince, it is the resonation within the listener. Truth is not received as a gift; it arises from within. Wisdom lies not in tightly bound, catechized texts; it is witnessed in human stories that bring tears, smiles, inexpressible connections. Wisdom is personal first. It touches without touching. But as it wells up it becomes communal. We join others because we see they have what we want. The true believer knows the difference between being grabbed by marching words and being embraced by warm light.

Truth lies in stories, the stories of life and living. We don’t learn truth--we find it, we come upon it. It is in the open meadows into which we step after wandering in the forest. It is not in our heads where knowledge grows like crowded saplings and trees; it is in our hearts where there is ample room for knowing to leap and dance--where others join us when they look up from the maps and realize they are there already.

God, as leather-bound and handed to us, may or may not be genuine truth, depending on the integrity of the presenter. But Truth, for certain, is God. And Truth is within us, waiting only to be enlivened. Truth--as God--is down deep, in the bright open spaces down where we are.

Dead Voices Still Speak

DEAD VOICES STILL SPEAK

As I was reading this week about the English philosopher, Thomas Hobbes, his ideas about the realities of a troubled world and how to respond seemed to set off a strange reverberation in me. It sounded oddly familiar, as if a second voice had joined in and I was hearing two people chanting together. Shortly after setting down my book I turned on the TV news. There was George Bush answering his critics, explaining his recent actions regarding surveillance and port management decisions. It seemed almost as if he was lip-syncing Thomas Hobbes. I immediately thought, how much more effective the President’s defense would be if he were to quote the famous philosopher. I don’t know if Bush has a copy of Hobbes’ book, Leviathan, on his nightstand beside his bed, or if he intuitively has picked up on similar ideas about how to rule a nation .


Anyway, here is Hobbes in a nutshell. See if it doesn’t sound familiar.


When humans (theoretically) enter into a social compact--to prevent chaos--and set up a ruler by way of covenant to run their government, it is not a working arrangement for citizen convenience, with the ruler wearing the people’s leash. Rather it is a promise of citizens to each other that they will obey the majority-chosen ruler. There is no right to criticize, or rebel, or jerk on the ruler’s leash (as John Locke would enjoin). It is a contract between citizens to which the ruler is not a signatory. The benefit to the people is the unity of community under their Leviathan, their Savior, who, with sovereign power handed to him, proceeds to rule without being called to answer.


Remember when Bush won reelection he spoke of his “mandate.” And have you noticed his reluctance to give background for his actions. Bush is very protective of his presidential prerogatives. As he says, he was given the job of protecting the people and intends to take the task seriously. We should trust him and stay out of it. When Congress put the brakes on the Dubai port deal, Bush said, hands off or I will veto you. The best sign of a man’s “inner mind” is when he speaks from instinct without careful thought. But Carl Rove was close by. Did you notice how Rove stepped in quickly and saw to it that the UAE backed down “on their own,” which made Bush’s politically insensitive threat moot.


Thomas Hobbes did not have a staff manager like Rove, so his cynicisms are left hanging on the clothes line, not forgotten. Want to hear more? Hobbes said that any ruler will rule selfishly, of course, and play favorites for those close around him; but what’s new? A popular assembly would do the same, and much more chaotically. At least the sovereign will keep things under control and operate with snappy (secret if necessary?) efficiency. A little despotism is better than social turmoil. Criticism of the ruler breaks up consensus and leads to civil war. An unquestioned ruler prevents the anarchy that unguided democracy would otherwise degenerate into. Don‘t be confused by the synchronization of voices here, I am now giving you Hobbes.
Once the people choose their sovereign, their part is done, except to be loyal to him. Hobbes’ idea of liberty for the people is freedom to move without restriction; that is, freedom to move where there happens to be no restriction--like water that flows nimbly, but not as the crow flies. If there is a boulder, water freely darts around it. Citizens, like water, have liberty where laws don’t interfere. Citizens have rights where the sovereign permits, and the sovereign is free to grant or not, as he alone decides. (Why does the word “veto” flit across my mind?)
Bertrand Russell interestingly frames Hobbes’ notion of a monarch’s freedom from accountability and the foppishness of any objections. When King David had Uriah killed, “he did no injury to Uriah because Uriah was his subject.” David’s injury was to God, who alone trumps the king’s hand. In the temporal world the king does not encounter obstacles, he removes them. On the other hand, the people must respect obstacles. The people are free only to seek out areas where they aren‘t restricted. The implication being that David could never have been a great king if he had to answer to the people. A little misstep here and there can be allowed (collateral damage?).


Back to Hobbes; he had a sharp way of lampooning fuzzy thinking and posed as a stark realist about life. He splashed cold water around and woke people up. But as a classic pessimist, he sat precariously on a thin limb. When he spoke of liberty, equality and rights he was no democrat. When a wake-up call comes (like 9/11) we look for a Leviathan. Fortune had one in place for us, one who unabashedly practices Hobbesianism. Shall we glory in his leadership or ask if there might be other sinister (subtle) threats to America that can’t be handled with bullets. Hobbes so far seems to be right. Our elected assembly leaders have offered no alternative to “force.” And if we had a parliamentary system (with no chief), the government would possibly degenerate into chaos with (the current) Congress in charge.


In his most famous statement, Hobbes characterized human life as “nasty, brutish, and short.” In Iraq we quickly took care of the nastiest brute (we could “find“), and discovered that the short success was deceiving. But if the immediate picture isn’t rosy, look farther off and talk about the ultimate goal of the spread of “democracy.” Bush’s public pronouncements about the chaotic realities of Iraq outline his inner voice. Few people would credit him with the ability to articulate deep flowing intellectual instincts, but he is expert at stirring up fears--which was also Hobbes’ craft-in-trade. Even if Bush’s Yale reading lists did not include Hobbes, his frontier vernacular echoes Hobbes’ cynicism--the way to deal with the “nasty, brutish” violence in Iraq is to stand behind our leader’s strategy and don’t watch the video clips of blasted temples and streets strewn with bodies.


One commentator on Hobbes notes that this cynical philosopher, who had no faith in democracy, despite his play with such words as “compact” (one-way covenant), “equality” (of miserableness) and (unfree) “liberty,” had two unhideable flaws. He had no appreciation for subtleties (his visceral remarks seemed refreshing), and he ignored awkward facts (an aristocratic luxury). It is as if Hobbes has reincarnated as an oilman-turned-politician. You couldn’t ask for a better clone.