A reader critiques my portrayal of race and violence

We had a bit of a feisty discussion here recently around the subject of gender roles and relationships on my post Men are in charge because the Bible says so. Not long after, I received a challenging email from Jana (who agreed to let me share our correspondence):

Sorry to leave this on a contact form not a comment. I didn’t want to start a nasty comment fight so I thought this would be best. I saw [the] article a while back and the picture disturbed me. I ignored it, as usual dismissing it, excusing it. I’m just being upity again!

But then I stumbled across it again and I just had to ask. What on earth made you pick a picture of domestic violence taken from rural Africa? Sorry to be a pain but I just can’t fathom why you would have chosen this particular picture and I just had to ask. Sorry!

Jana

Here’s my reply:

Hi Jana,

Thanks for being willing to ask. I chose the picture because it perfectly captures the spirit of male power inherent in patriarchy. When men exert power in the world it is typically through verbal, physical, or political threats, coercion, or violence. I find that highly disturbing, and I needed a disturbing picture to capture the essence of patriarchy.

So, why does it disturb you? Do you think it’s an inappropriate picture for that post?

Thanks,
Jason

Jana’s response made me realize I’d missed the point:

Hi Jason,

Yeah you are right the image definitely captures the image which you talk about in the piece. And I am in total agreement with your points. What disturbed me was why did you pick this one out of an African rural context? How many of your readers can identify with this scene? I found these with a quick search. Seem to convey the same.

http://runninginheels.co.uk/articles/domestic-violence/
http://objectifythis.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/dolce-and-gabbana-rape-ad.jpg
http://www.topnews.in/files/Sexual-violence-women.jpg

Now I am not trying to accuse you of racism or anything like. But by using the image you did, all you did was reinforce the idea that violence against women is something which those barbarians do. Because your readers won’t identify with that African villager at all. Why use a picture of an African man when there are plenty of pictures of men from your own culture doing the same?

I hate racifying things. But sometimes I feel a bit of a duty to say something which I know a lot of us BAME’s are thinking! “not again” “not another shot of a dark skinned man doing something barbaric”. Probably should have just left you alone but felt compelled to say something.

Thanks for listening!
Jana

Frankly, I hadn’t considered any of that.

That’s a fair critique Jana. To be perfectly honest I chose that particular picture 1) because it was dramatic, and 2) because you can’t really make out anyone’s face – and I’m somewhat cautious about showing people’s faces on my blog if I don’t know them, particularly when they’re portrayed negatively. BUT, I never thought about the racial or cultural messaging. I should have – which is not quite the same thing as saying I shouldn’t have used the picture, but it’s very possible that upon reflection I wouldn’t have used it, if for no other reason than to avoid perpetuating negative stereotypes about blacks and black Africans. There’s an interesting, complicated, and very important discussion in there somewhere. Either way, I do appreciate you bringing it to my attention.

Regards,
Jason

And, our last email:

Hi Jason,

Yes I never thought that you would have chosen the picture with the express purpose of putting across that message. And I realise that it’s hard to find appropriate images especially when you are trying to meet so many criteria (not sexist, not racist, hides faces, communicates the point etc.). The last thing I would want is to suggest anything else. Race and gender issues are so interwoven and overlapping so it all very complicated. But I think you are right, there is an important (though complicated) discussion in there and it is just waiting to be had.

I heard something is going on over on your side of the Atlantic with regards to race in the church, that things are changing and shifting? In any case the race issue still exists (Obama or no), and we have to have a global discussion for a global church.

Thanks,
Jana

Friday Later I’d like to complicate this topic with some thoughts about race, violence and the Kingdom. But until then, I’d be interested in your thoughts – with the caveat that any comments on this sensitive topic need to be appropriate. Otherwise, they will be edited or deleted.

Technorati Tags: Critique, Kingdom of God, Race, Violence

What About God As The Monster? An Open Letter To Brian McLaren

Dear Brian,

I just finished reading your book, A New Kind of Christianity and I wanted to accept your invitation (in the prelude) to reply.

I really appreciated this book. First, I found your proposal that we shift our scripture-reading paradigm from a “constitutional” approach to that of a “portable library” of ancient Jewish sources to be both a compelling and accurate way of characterizing a key hermeneutical difference. As I’ve worked in recent months to birth a fresh expression of church in my area, I’ve become convinced this is one of the most important shifts I need to model for others.

I also appreciated your perspective of Christ as the lens through which we read scripture. Of course, lots of folks from a diversity of traditions have affirmed this, but I think you’ve articulated it in a way that presents Christ as more than just the atoning incarnation of God, but also as God’s powerful and practical means of bringing peace-making and justice to the world. That, to me, seems like a high Christology and a much needed correction to foundationalist reductions.

I do have a few questions. Have you seen “The Answer Man” (originally titled “Arlen Faber” in 2009)? I loved this film and your book reminded me of a particular scene. The main character, Arlen Faber (played superbly by Jeff Daniels) is considered the world’s leading authority on God. But he bears a terrible secret: He hasn’t “heard” from God in twenty years. One of his only joys in life is old classic Hollywood monster films (like The Wolfman, Dracula, and Frankenstein) and he collects model figures of these monsters. Anyway, there’s a scene where Arlen is talking to a troubled younger man named Kris, who is asking him about God:

Kris: So what’s the deal with heaven and hell anyway?

Arlen: I’ve seen hell, and it’s name is Reno, Nevada.

Kris: I can’t believe God would punish people for not believing in him.

Arlen: Ah, the rapture.

Kris: What’s that?

Arlen: Well, I like to think of it as a monster movie. The monster destroys some people and spares others.

Kris: So who is the monster?

Arlen: God. God is the monster.

While Arlen is clearly mocking the very “soul sort” narrative you condemn, Jeff Daniels plays it more beautifully nuanced than that. He also seems to have a deeply ambivalent frustration and affection for God as “the monster” that echoes his affection for those classic monster films. It immediately made me think of the refrain in The Chronicles of Narnia that Aslan is “not a tame lion.” Likewise, I think there is a sense in which God is the “monster” for us. Much is made these days of our intimacy with God, particularly as an inevitable consequence of God’s own internal Trinitarian intimacy and his subsequent mission to reach out to the “other” – and I agree with that characterization wholeheartedly. However it also seems to me that there must remain, for eternity, an ontological “otherness” to God that keeps Godself at an inscrutable distance.

In other words, Arlen was right. God is the monster.

I can’t help but wonder if you’ve dismissed this aspect of God. For example, when you discuss the long questioning of Job by God toward the end of the central poem in the book, you interpret this to be a demonstration of God’s openness, but you ignore the dramatic climax of those very questions:

“Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him? Let him who accuses God answer him!” (Job 40:2)

In other words, God’s answer to Job is exactly the “might makes right” argument you later condemn in your book (p178). Furthermore, this interpretation doesn’t come from a “constitutional” reading; rather, it respects the very dramatic literary reading of the poem and even echoes the central conclusion of Job’s Babylonian predecessor, “The Poem of the Righteous Sufferer.” Frankly, I don’t see how this harsh, “might makes right” argument can be dismissed as an evolutionary vestigial tail (so to speak) from the Old Testament because it is also the exact argument Paul uses in his very disconcerting “vessels of wrath” illustration from Romans 9:

“But who are you, O man, to talk back to God?” (Rom 9:20)

This represents my main concern with your book, and, specifically, with your proposal that we embrace an evolutionary reading of scripture. I have no problem with an evolutionary paradigm per sé, but you seem to apply it selectively and without any specific method – other than to use Jesus as the plumb line. Yet, even then, you remain silent on the difficult, and even violent, elements of judgment in many of Jesus’ own parables. The overall affect of this silence is that it really does appear you’ve merely used this evolutionary approach to dismiss the distasteful characteristics of God in accordance with contemporary tastes and sensibilities.

As I survey the biblical characterizations of God I find God’s mercy right alongside a willingness to judge with violence (be that hardship, exile, physical death, or the eternal judgment of being discarded in a cosmic trash heap). This appears from the first book to the last and everywhere in between, with no apparent evolutionary pattern. Moreover, Jesus seems to be the chief expositor of both characteristics. Personally, I don’t think we need to turn theological cartwheels in order to abstain from human appropriations of God’s own violence (this is clearly your motivation, and, as a pacifist myself, it’s a motivation I sympathize with). In fact, I think Jesus demonstrates that we can embrace God as the monster while abdicating violence ourselves.

I hate to toss around the word “orthodoxy” – which is often used as a blunt rhetorical object – but it seems to me that a defining feature of orthodoxy is the refusal to resolve the tension of seemingly opposing concepts. The irony of your theology, which strives to be thoroughly postmodern (and I mean that as a sincere compliment), is that you seem fall into the thoroughly Modern trap of attempting to resolve the biblical tension between God as lover and God as monster.

What do you think?

Some questions for you (or anyone else who cares to pitch in):

1. If God is God and I am not, shouldn’t I expect to find some of God’s attributes to be personally objectionable?
2. Closely related to #1: Isn’t there some sense in which God must always be “the monster” or else cease to be God?
3. Is there room in your theology for God as “the monster” alongside God as the merciful liberator? If so, how?

Post Script: This letter – in a much shorter form – was part of an assignment for my Fuller Seminary class “MC 535: Emerging Churches.” You can read my classmates letters to Brian by visiting dearbrianmclaren.wordpress.com.

Technorati Tags: A New Kind of Christianity, Brian McLaren, God as monster, peace-making, Violence

Bumper Sticker Theology: Coexist?

California is a rich repository of odd theological statements encapsulated in pithy sayings on the back of people’s cars. Today I saw this popular bumper sticker on a Lexus:

Underneath this peacefully enlightened plea for inter-religious civility was a license plate frame which stated:

Come over here…

So I can smack you!

Sort of changes the tenor of the sticker doesn’t it?

Technorati Tags: bumper stickers, Coexist, Culture, Peace, Theology, Violence