Tsarnaev Death Penalty

I can't say I'm surprised that  Dzhokhar Tsarnaev received the death penalty, though disappointed. In an odd ironic sense, executing someone who had expressed a desire for martyrdom (however seriously you want to take that) seems sort of counter intuitive. I know plenty of people want him to suffer, which the kind of maximum prison he would have gone to certainly would have done, but I'm not comfortable with that idea either. I do believe in serious consequences and protection of the public for heinous criminals, but I also believe it needs to be done with respect for our shared humanity, and as a Christian for the image of God in even the most despicable of us. Genesis 9:6 is sometimes quoted as divine sanction of capital punishment, but it clearly says that the image of God in our fellow humans is the basis for that, which can hardly be claimed with the way the death penalty is handled anywhere today. I also know claiming religious justification for such laws leads to horrors and would rightly not be constitutional in the US. Yet, as a Christian I must find something deeper than deterrence to justify the death penalty, which I'm afraid is just code for revenge that eats at the souls of those who harbor it.

I am more concerned about the spiritual health of the Church than the religious landscape of the country.

From self-congratulatory evangelicals triumphantly wagging their fingers at mainliners to panic stricken fear mongers bemoaning the collapse of the country, the Pew Research Center survey of the U.S. Religious Landscape has evoked quite a range of responses. I have also heard and read some insightful analysis of the nuanced details of this report. Anyone who has been paying attention for the last 50 years is not surprised.

Though I can’t imagine that my perspective is unique or significant in the maelstrom of words this has provoked, I believe attempting to articulate it helps me clarify my thinking with the hope it might do that for someone else too.

I do not think the future of the United States depends on the size of religious institutions. Nor do I think that the rise and fall of religious institutions indicate the spiritual health of the Church in the United States. I want to see my country as a role model for justice and peace for all people in which the rule of law protects the weak and restrains the powerful. I want to see the Church as a mosaic of communities of Jesus disciples living out faith and love among and between themselves and reaching out into the communities and world around them.

I believe the Church is strongest when it is dependent on the power of God and does not lean on the broken crutch of pseudo Christian civil religion. From that standpoint the decline in Christianity in the United States is the loss of a generic Christian social consensus, I expect it will strengthen the Church. When self-identifying as a Christian means more than a bland religious overlay on respectable citizenship, it has a much better chance of pointing toward authentic discipleship. Such discipleship is not whimpering defensiveness nor bombastic certitude. It not only welcomes honest questioning but encourages it. It thrives on dialog in which people who are seeking to live out their faith in Jesus seek to learn from each other rather than to convince or condemn each other.

For its first three centuries the Church was formed, took root and grew in the context of the Roman Empire that was at best indifferent and often hostile. Within a generation of becoming the official religion of the empire, the spiritual decline was precipitous. Renewal movements from the Dessert Fathers and Mothers, to Benedict, to Francis, to Ignatius and his Protestant counterparts, have always had to set themselves apart from the mainstream of cultural religion. Is it possible that the decline of cultural Christianity in the United States opens the way to genuine spiritual renewal that transcends the tribal boundaries of Catholic-Protestant, Evangelical-Mainline?

The United States (and any other remnants of Christendom) are manifestly temporary. They will pass from the human scene either by the flow of history or eschatological intervention. They are not manifestations of the Kingdom or Reign of God or Christ. The Church, however, is something of advance colonies of that Realm in which Christ is sovereign. Though its fortunes may wax and wane and its forms and practices change, I am convinced it will persist until the parousia. 

Power of Insignificance and Apparent Defeat

In my high school German III & IV classes (that I barely squeaked by) we read (in German) some of the letters and pamphlets written by Sophie and her brother Hans and others in The White Rose. The Scholls were heroes of mine before I even knew much more than the name of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I was more familiar with The White Rose than the Confessing Church until late in my college career. Young? Yes. Courageous? Of course. I do not consider them to have failed in their mission. I believe The White Rose, The Confessing Church and others who resisted the Nazis from within had more to do with the collapse of Nazi Germany than the Allied military. They undermined the attempt to control conscience and thus the ability of the Nazi political and military establishment to continue and compel people to do its bidding. They exposed its moral bankruptcy that could not bear the weight the rest of the world was putting on them. They seemed insignificant at the time, but the Nazis knew what a danger they were to the Nazi power structure. Tyrants always fear those with a conscience who are not afraid of pain or death because they cannot be controlled.

Will the Supreme Court Surprise Us All?

Thoughts on political operations (not on what my opinion would be if I were a Supreme Court Justice): The same-sex marriage issue before the Supreme Court now is likely to be a watershed decision not unlike Brown v. Board of Education Topeka, Kansas  (1954 9-0 decision that overturned Plessy v. Ferguson 1896). I know some might argue that Row v. Wade (1973 7-2 decision) was of the same magnitude. But Chief Justice Roberts’ sex discrimination question (as opposed to the right to marry issue) made me wonder if he is already thinking the way then Chief Justice Warren was thinking in 1954. Desegregation of public schools was such a volatile, divisive issue at the time, threatening to plunge the nation into violent chaos, that he wanted to find a way to avoid a divided court to signal this decision was not going to be subject to political jockeying. Warren was able to convince all of the justices to work together and work hard to find language and principles they could all agree on for the good of the country. In the present situation a 5-4 decision either way will not settle anything but prolong a pitched battle. A 9-0 unanimous decision on anything seems hopeless in our present polarized environment, though race relations in 1954 were certainly violently polarizing. Ironically, in recent months we have not seemed to progress much on that front since 1954. Chief Justice Roberts is clearly identified as an articulate conservative, and he is also known as a skilled negotiator. Can he cobble together a 6-3 decision either by finding an approach that persuades Justice Kennedy to vote with the conservatives or a legal rationale with which he and the liberal justices can agree? Either way, could he persuade one more justice to go with him to make a 7-2 decision? What difference would it make for the country if a one-vote-margin was avoided? What difference would it make to those whose cause did not prevail? In Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas, the final legal underpinnings were not at the center of either side’s arguments, which often happens in Supreme Court decisions. As those nine people argue out their differences of opinion, unexpected results have emerged in the past. Is a surprise possible that would bring together or at least leave intact the concerns for individual conscience and social justice? I hope those of you who know me recognize how important Christian faith and discipleship are to me, with all that brings in the realm of theology and ethics based on Scripture. Because of that I do not want the government (Supreme Court, Congress, public schools) defining and mandating those things for me. Yet, I know that theology matters, and what we believe necessarily shapes our decisions and actions in the public arena as well as the private. This conviction (plus the U.S. Constitution’s non-establishment of religion clause in the First Amendment) means the Supreme Court must rightly try to sort this out without using religious categories, at the same time working with the sincere convictions of each of the justices. I also know I have friends and family fully convinced on both sides of this issue and have purposely tried not to tip my hand in what I have written here, which I know will not please those with strong conflicting opinions for whom the answer is completely obvious and may think I am copping out. In some other areas, I have recently had occasion to reflect on Romans 14:5, “Let all be fully convinced in their own minds.” Paul appealed to those who were fully convinced in their own minds of opposite opinions not to judge each other. I also know that for those who are fully convinced in their own minds, this principle doesn’t apply since what is at stake seems so clear to them. I know all too well how hard it is for me, when I am fully convinced of something in my mind, to understand why it is not equally as clear to someone who disagrees. Here, I am not talking about the differing perspectives that distinguish Christians from secular society but sincere disagreements between biblically informed, prayerful, serious disciples of Jesus.

I'm Compelled to Respond Again to the Gun Debate

As I listen to conversation and TV and read on Facebook the gun debates, I am struck with the adamancy with which the arguers select statistics and quotes to support their positions.  Many of the arguments center around the pragmatics of what may or may not prevent mass shootings or individual crimes, what does or does not offer protection from violent crime. In those arguments I sense a lot of fear: fear of how our society is changing, fear of people we don’t understand, fear of losing personal rights and security, fear of the technology of firearms, fear of mental illness.

 

I have observed in many situations and am convinced in this instance that when we, individually or together, make decisions out of fear we almost always make the wrong decision. I am reminded by 1 John 4:18 that perfect love casts out fear. Courage is not the opposite of fear, love is! I would challenge those engaging in the current gun debate to be honest about the fears behind their arguments and confront them with love.

 

I recognize that this is counter-cultural, and I have no illusions that our politicians can comprehend much less implement love as the antidote to fear. I know that depending on love is regarded as naïve and thus untried.  As one who aspires to follow the teaching and example of Jesus Christ, I must consider something even more radical. That is that self-defense is incompatible with Christian discipleship. I may be called upon to risk my safety for the protection of others, especially the weak and vulnerable, but I believe that using deadly force on another person to defend myself is spiritually far more dangerous than being killed.

 

If you assume that my words are an oblique argument in the gun debate, you have completely missed my point. I am confident that neither laws nor guns offer safety, security or protection. Both are illusions spawned by fear. That is not to say that guns and laws do not serve some useful purposes, only that until we are prepared to address our fears with much greater power at much greater depth, laws and guns endanger rather than protect us.

 

If you can set aside for a moment the public rhetoric and political debates, it is clear that the gun debate is one more polarizing issue affecting our whole society. At the same time that polls (and internet posts) show a growing number of people clambering for tighter gun regulations, gun and ammunition sales (and NRA membership and firearms training) are skyrocketing. This chasm can only be crossed when people on both sides let love cast out their fear.

U.S. Constitution and the Bible

I have a deep respect and appreciation for the U.S. Constitution. Few if any countries have used the same defining document for such a long time. Except for the turmoil of the Civil War, the U.S. Constitution has guided this country through the peaceful transitions of government for two and a quarter centuries. This has held up even in times of great division, turmoil and distrust. The U.S. Constitution is remarkable for its brevity, especially when compared with the defining documents of other nations. That is clearly part of its genius. With only a couple of exceptions, the U.S. Constitution has not been used to address transitory issues but sets in place a mechanism for doing so. It has established stable, enduring institutions and processes, while at the same time remaining flexible and adaptable to changing conditions.

 

Having said that, the framers knew it was the imperfect work of imperfect people. From its original form through the years of amendments, the U.S. Constitution has been forged from difficult and sometimes distressing compromises. Perhaps the greatest of these is how it handled slavery that became fertile soil for the Civil War and perpetuated suffering on thousands and thousands of people for generations. The framers knew full well that the U.S. Constitution was not a finished product when they built in a difficult but achievable means of amending it. Its very adoption was dependent on passing the ten amendments of the Bill of Rights.

 

I believe the U.S. Constitution can and will serve the United States well for many generations to come. But I am also uncomfortable with how the U.S. Constitution is invoked in some of the most volatile political debates of our time. To suggest that it is frozen in the eighteenth century is a denial of both the insight of the framers and the realities of the twenty first century. I am even more concerned that this endues the U.S. Constitution with the qualities of inspiration, reliability and authority that, as a Christian, I can only ascribe to the Bible.

 

I can acknowledge God sovereignly working in the processes by which the framers developed the U.S. Constitution. However, that is a very long way from treating it as divine scripture. While some devout, orthodox Christians participated in framing the U.S. Constitution, Deists who overtly disavowed Christianity also had a strong influence. I am not objecting to their influence on the U.S. Constitution, but only objecting to trying to claim this document that does not mention God as somehow Christian.

 

In fact, I am convinced that we Christians and our churches are far better off and have a more vigorous faith when neither government nor social consensus supports a generic religion cloaked with Christian vocabulary. To say “I believe in God” or even “I believe in Christ” is far different than living in faith as a disciple of Jesus. To be satisfied with superficial religion, even with Christian symbols, is to dilute the demands of discipleship. What spiritual benefit is it to expect public officials to mouth religious platitudes which are at best marginal to them?

 

At the time I am writing this, this country is reeling from yet another gun massacre. At a time when we are and should be grieving, the demand to take action to prevent such tragedies in the future is pushing our national mourning to the edges with political posturing over gun laws.

 

This posturing is what has prompted my reflections on the U.S. Constitution. In my high school history and government classes and my college history and political science classes, the “right to keep and bear arms” clause of the Second Amendment was consistently taught as relating to the States keeping standing militias as protection from an armed invasion, especially by a tyrannical central government. While fear of big government is again fueling current political debates, I am not aware of anyone seriously proposing individual States waging an armed insurrection against the federal government. Public opinion and recent court decisions have interpreted the “right to keep and bear arms” clause of the U.S. Constitution as an individual right, and the incentive is the personal right to use deadly force for perceived self-defense.

 

While the interpretation of the clause seems to have evolved in my own lifetime, the “right to keep and bear arms” seems to have become fixed and inviolable by virtue of being in the U.S. Constitution. Yet the circumstances in the twenty first century are far different than they were in 1787 when the U.S. Constitution was adopted. The rationale has shifted from state militias to individual self-defense. Having recently come through the Revolutionary War with its single load rifles, the framers of the U.S. Constitution could never have imagined the powerful, repeating firearms we have today. . We have grown from a young nation along the Atlantic coast to become a major world power occupying the center of North America from coast to coast. We have gone from an agrarian society in which a gun was a survival tool for providing food as much as for protection (not necessarily from other people) to an urban society in which the density of population raises the risks and consequences of all violence dramatically. I’d like to think that if the founders could look over our shoulders and give us some advice, they’d tell us that there is sufficient flexibility in the Second Amendment to address the current issues that surround guns. They would probably also remind us that we have the power to amend the Constitution to cope with changing circumstances, though probably with a cautionary note about tampering with the Constitution to deal with a transitory issue.

 

Theologically, we Christians ought also to remind our society that neither the U.S. Constitution nor our other laws are Holy Scripture. God did not deliver them to Thomas Jefferson as the Ten Commandments were delivered to Moses as reported in Exodus. To be a nation of laws is good. We can be very thankful for the exemplary quality of our U.S. Constitution which protects our right to worship God and live as faithful disciples of Jesus. We Christians are also called to urge our society to use and modify its laws to maximize justice and peace in the circumstances of our own time.

Can we move from the fear driven debate over guns to love?

Laws are external reflections of broader, underlying social values. The debates over gun laws provoked by tragedies, such as happened this week in Connecticut are the symptom of a deep ambivalence in our society. We want assured security, which is impossible. So we are afraid, and when we respond out of fear, we almost always make the wrong decision.

 

Some folk try to assuage their insecurity by owning guns in the illusory belief that guns will protect them, ignoring the reality that those guns are more of a threat to them and those they love than to a potential criminal. We don’t take seriously Jesus’ words, “Those who live by the sword (gun) will die by the sword (gun).” (Matthew 26:52) Others seek an equally illusory security in laws that are not respected by those with violent intent. Laws may control the behavior of most people, but they cannot determine the character of those who do not share the underlying principle of the law.

 

Only as we acknowledge and address our fear will we be able to have a dialog that can produce a viable consensus. St. John wrote, “Perfect love casts our fear.” (1 John 4:18) The dialog needs to be about how to make love a practical replacement for fear.

 

One part of that has to do with how we handle mental illness. This is more than providing better services. It has to do with truly loving those who suffer from mental illness, so we are not afraid of “them,” and they are not afraid of “us.”

 

But even deeper, we have to surrender our insatiable, impossible insistence on total security. That is not to say we accept threats and dangers, but that we recognize nothing we do will be 100% airtight and not look to lay blame on scapegoats when the reality of human insecurity happens.

 

That gets at a core issue that is even more difficult to address: individualistic self-focus that makes self-defense a paramount value. Whether we think guns or laws will defend us from violent threats, the effect is to elevate ourselves over others, which is to stifle love with fear.

 

Fully recognizing that only a tiny portion of the population consider themselves first and foremost to be disciples of Jesus, as one who aspires to that and to follow his lead, I must surrender my demand for self-defense. That determination took Jesus to the cross and is the life path laid out by St. Paul. (Philippians 3:10-11) To become like Jesus in his death, and attain the resurrection from the dead.

 

Out of love I may do any number of difficult and risky things to protect my family, my friends, my neighbors, even those I don’t know who might think of me as their enemy. But I would like to think that if faced with only these options, I would choose to let an attacker send me into the arms of Jesus than for me to send them to eternal judgment beyond repentance. Can anything less express the love of Jesus?