Category: Law and Policy

Christians and Memorial Day

Post author By David Opderbeck
Post date June 1, 2010
5 Comments on Christians and Memorial Day

I enjoy Memorial Day. As an American, it feels right to remember and celebrate the sacrifices of our soldiers. As a Christian, however, I feel ambivalent about this kind of celebration. Pageantry, uniforms, parades, and the rhetoric of civil virtue — all of these things are seductive. It is so easy to fall into idolatry, to equate my polis with the City of God.

I wonder whether any Christians cheered during Titus’ triumphal procession through Rome in 71 A.D., after his armies had destroyed Jerusalem. Here is how the Jewish historian Josephus described it:

Now it is impossible to describe the multitude of the shows as they deserve, and the magnificence of them all; such indeed as a man could not easily think of as performed, either by the labor of workmen, or the variety of riches, or the rarities of nature; for almost all such curiosities as the most happy men ever get by piece-meal were here one heaped on another, and those both admirable and costly in their nature; and all brought together on that day demonstrated the vastness of the dominions of the Romans; for there was here to be seen a mighty quantity of silver, and gold, and ivory, contrived into all sorts of things, and did not appear as carried along in pompous show only, but, as a man may say, running along like a river.

Among the spoils Titus carried into Rome were the treasures of the Second Jewish Temple:

But for those that were taken in the temple of Jerusalem, they made the greatest figure of them all; that is, the golden table, of the weight of many talents; the candlestick also, that was made of gold, though its construction were now changed from that which we made use of; for its middle shaft was fixed upon a basis, and the small branches were produced out of it to a great length, having the likeness of a trident in their position, and had every one a socket made of brass for a lamp at the tops of them. These lamps were in number seven, and represented the dignity of the number seven among the Jews; and the last of all the spoils, was carried the Law of the Jews. After these spoils passed by a great many men, carrying the images of Victory, whose structure was entirely either of ivory or of gold. After which Vespasian marched in the first place, and Titus followed him; Domitian also rode along with them, and made a glorious appearance, and rode on a horse that was worthy of admiration.

For all the excitement of Titus’ memorial parade, it must have been a frightening and sad day for Roman Christians, most of whom likely would still have thought of themselves as Jews. Indeed, the Biblical book of Revelation reflects Christian attitudes towards the Roman polis of this time:

After this I saw another angel coming down from heaven. He had great authority, and the earth was illuminated by his splendor. With a mighty voice he shouted:

“Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great!
She has become a home for demons
and a haunt for every evil spirit,
a haunt for every unclean and detestable bird.
For all the nations have drunk
the maddening wine of her adulteries.
The kings of the earth committed adultery with her,
and the merchants of the earth grew rich from her excessive luxuries.”

Then I heard another voice from heaven say:
“Come out of her, my people,
so that you will not share in her sins,
so that you will not receive any of her plagues;
for her sins are piled up to heaven,
and God has remembered her crimes.
Give back to her as she has given;
pay her back double for what she has done.
Mix her a double portion from her own cup.
Give her as much torture and grief
as the glory and luxury she gave herself.

In her heart she boasts,’I sit as queen; I am not a widow,and I will never mourn.’
Therefore in one day her plagues will overtake her:
death, mourning and famine.
She will be consumed by fire,
for mighty is the Lord God who judges her. (Rev. 18:1-8)

Why are things so different for American Christians? Here are some snapshots of Church groups marching in the Hawthorne, New Jersey Memorial Day parade. The first two show the representatives of the local Catholic parish:

The next is from a Reformed church:

Here is the Episcopal parish:

And a nondenominational evangelical church:

It’s interesting to note how each of these local church bodies expressed their differing relationships to culture through these marchers. The Catholic entry was old-school Northeast Italian Catholic: American civil religion as generational heritage. The Reformed church’s float offered an integration of the cross and the flag: American civil religion as common grace. The Episcopal church knit together themes of peace, prayer, flags, and troops: American aging hippie counterculture meets civil religion. And the independent evangelical church advertised its gospel outreach through “vacation Bible school” (complete with a web address): American consumer culture meets civil religion.

In contrast with Revelation 18’s sentiments towards Rome, the fact that such a variety of Christian congregations all participated without irony in a parade honoring armies and wars seems striking. Of course, there are two thousand years of history between John’s Apocalypse and Memorial Day 2010. The Constantinian Settlement, Christendom, the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the close connection between Protestant Christianity and the founding of the United States, all help explain the difference: America in 2010 is not first century Rome, and our wars are not Rome’s wars.

And yet…. Has every American war been manifestly just, a clear defense of ordinary, peaceful people against oppression? Certainly not. Even if we concede that the “just war” criteria are universally valid (a concession I’m not prepared to make in light of other alternatives, such as the “just peacemaking” approach), many American military conflicts fail that test. It’s painful to remember that so much of United States territory was taken from Mexico and from native peoples by illegitimate force. World War I, in retrospect, seems like a pointless waste of millions of lives, fueled by stupidity and pride. The conflicts in Korea and Vietnam remain controversial, and there seem to be very strong arguments that the present Iraq War was initiated on false pretenses and contrary to international law. Even the American Revolution appears ambiguous when judged by “just war” standards. Would the Church today sanction violent revolution over unfair taxation? I hope not, given the ludicrous amount of property taxes we pay in New Jersey.

World War II, the “good war,” seems like the only modern American conflict that clearly was just in its inception. But even with the good war, there is the problem of how the fighting was carried out. The fire bombing of Germany and Japan, and of course the atomic bomb, introduce grave moral ambiguities into the story of the greatest generation.

So, I celebrate Memorial Day. I sincerely salute the veterans as they march or drive by my lawn chair. I eat hamburgers and drink iced tea. I remember the truth that “greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13). I give thanks to God for freedoms of religion, assembly and speech, and for the prosperity of economic freedoms. But I wonder whether our religion has become perhaps just a bit too civil in the face of war.

Law and Policy

The Virtues of Copying

Post author By David Opderbeck
Post date May 26, 2010

Here’s a great TED video for intellectual property geeks on the virtues of copying in the fashion industry.

Humor Law and Policy

A New Church-State Decision on Teaching Global Warming

Post author By David Opderbeck
Post date May 25, 2010

Well, not really, but this Onion News Network video clip satirizes the absurdity of many of the ongoing disputes about “balancing” public school curricula.

Christian Groups: Biblical Armageddon Must Be Taught Alongside Global Warming

This clip would be very funny if it weren’t so sad. It’s sad because, like all good satire, it’s based in truth. When the Texas School Board rewrites its curriculum to include country music as an important cultural movement, demonize the U.N., emphasize the state’s rights side of the arguments leading up to the Civil War, and so on — primarily at the urging of presumably good-hearted but seriously misguided religious people — humor seems a better response than despair. It’s also sad because it captures the cultural influence of the Left Behind phenomenon. As the Left Behind website asks:

“Are you ready for the moment of truth?

Political crisis

Economic crisis

Worldwide epidemics

Environmental catastrophe

Mass disappearances

Military apocalypse”

And this in turn is sad because it detracts from the authentic teaching in Christianity and other religions that there is a purpose to the ordering of life and society in this world — an ordering that implies final Divine judgment of evil. Many Biblical texts, such as 2 Peter 3, warn that the reality of final judgment is not a trifle. I would argue, in fact, that the reality of justice and final judgment is one of the basic reasons why “law” and “policy” truly matter.

Law and Policy

Faithful Presence

In his new book To Change the World, leading faith-and-culture scholar James Davidson Hunter describes the misplaced efforts by both conservative and progressive Christians in recent decades to change culture through law and politics. In my view, Hunter’s deconstruction of the Church’s complicity in fostering unproductive culture wars is nothing short of prophetic. But what does Hunter offer in place of political change? The phrase he wishes to promote is “faithful presence.”

“Faithful presence” does not imply that Christians should withdraw from law and politics. Indeed, Hunter also critiques the “neo-Anabaptist” approach to culture, which is at turns loudly combative and unrealisticly pacifistic. “Faithful presence” does mean, however, that the Church should not seek to “transform culture” by winning in the judicial and legislative arenas.

There are two reasons why this Quixotic quest should be abandoned. First this quest is, in fact, Quixotic; culture simply does not “transform” when laws change, at least not in the way that Christian culture warriors suppose is the case, and certainly not in ways that anyone can confidently predict. Second, this kind of quest is not consistent with the missio Dei.

This latter point, I think, is one that Christian and other religious legal scholars should explore more carefully. How did legal and political change become so central to the mission of the Church? Why does the political discourse in American Chrisitian churches, at least at the popular level, so rarely rises above the bar set by the Fox News Channel? Why do many of the messages we receive in our email inboxes from parachurch organizations read like paranoid radical libertarian hate mail (or, if the organization is “progressive,” like Marxist propaganda)? Is this what we believe life, death and resurrection of the Son of God, and the sending of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, are all about? As religious legal scholars, how can we help shape conversations about law and culture in ways that reflect a humble “faithful presence” rather than a drive to “win” at all costs?

Hunter predicted that his proposal would generate significant opposition, in no small part because the warrior mentality is now so engrained in our spiritual DNA. Not surprisingly, for example, in a response to Hunter’s book in Christianity Today, Chuck Colson dismissed the notion of “faithful presence” as “quietism.” This sort of response baffles me. Whatever happened to Romans 12:18: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone“? It seems the Apostle Paul lacked a sufficiently Kuyperian / neo-Calvinist take on culture and politics.

I do, of course, appreciate the push-back that some great moral movements in history were motivated by a form of religious engagement that seemed like more than “faithful presence.” The abolition of African slavery is Exhibit A in this regard.

And yet, upon closer examination, slavery is a curious case because the justification for slavery in the American South became increasingly “Christian” as the country careened towards the Civil War. What if the Southern Presbyterians had exercised “faithful presence” in the antebellum years, rather than insisting that African slavery was part of God’s providential design and branding the abolitionists heretics? The drive to eliminate American slavery was not a case of Christian abolitionists fighting against pagan or atheistic slave owners. It was, tragically, in addition to all its other historical, economic and political dimensions, a contest of competing Christian theologies. It seems to me that this cannot be compared to what the Church’s political presence should look like in response to openly anti-Christian culture. (Anyone who argues for slavery as a case study in Christian cultural engagement should read John Patrick Daly’s book When Slavery Was Called Freedom: Evangelicalism, Proslavery, and the Causes of the Civil War.)

In short, “faithful presence” seems to me exactly what Christian faith requires

Law and Policy Theology

Law and Justice at JC

Post author By David Opderbeck
Post date May 5, 2010

Stop by and join the conversation on Law, Judgment and Justice.

Culture Law and Policy Theology

Justice, Judgment and Love

I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about the connection between justice, judgment and love in Christian theology.

When I was in litigation practice, I always felt a bit of awe when I received an order from a Judge, even regarding something mundane like the exchange of documents in a civil case. That piece of paper represented the power and authority of the United States government compelling some person or corporation to behave a certain way, on pain of sanctions for contempt of court. When is the exercise of such authority legitimate and just? This is perhaps the most important question any legal system must address.

In my little corner of Christianity, American evangelicalism, we tend to focus quite a bit on God’s final judgment — the ultimate eschatological question of “who’s in and who’s out” of heaven. I’m worried that this typical faith narrative of ours lacks much meaningful representation of how justice, judgment, and love relate to each other or to God’s character. As I see it, the problem with this narrative isn’t that God judges; it’s that the god who is depicted as judge seems to lack any sense of justice or any attribute of love. Here is a god not unlike the gods of ancient mythology — arbitrary, distant, angry, petty, bent on destruction.

It seems to me that our Evangelical god sometimes isn’t really the Triune God revealed in Jesus Christ. As my theologian friend Scot McKnight notes in his book A Community Called Atonement, “[j]ustice . . . cannot be reduced to revenge or retribution. Instead, it is the redemptive grace of God at work in God’s community of faith that preemptively strikes with grace, love, peace, and forgiveness to restore others to selves, and to restore selves to others.” God’s justice portrayed in the Christian scriptures is a justice of restoration. It is not arbitrary, but rather flows from the relational character of the Triune God, which is a relationship of perfect fellowship and love.

A United States federal district court judge’s orders are legitimate because and to the extent that they are constructed within the communal framework of our constitutional social contract. God’s judgments are legitimate because they are the extension of the communal life of God into the world He created to share in that life. But if God is love, why would his justice ever exclude anyone from enjoying the benefits of the restored community?

I think Hans Boersma, in his rich book Violence, Hospitality, and the Cross, offers a helpful (and very Augustinian) response:

Just as divine hospitality requires at least some violence to make it flourish, so also God’s love requires that he become angry when his love is violated. For God not to get angry when he is rejected by people made in his image (and redeemed in Christ) would demonstrate indifference, not love. . . . Love, it seems, requires passionate anger toward anything that would endanger the relationship of love.

Justice motivated by love requires a sort of “violence.” If God is to restore the community of peace, He must melt away that which opposes peace, just as the refiner melts away that which corrupts the strength and beauty of the metal. “For he [God] is like a refiner’s fire” (Mal. 3:2).

But how does this particularly Christian and Trinitarian understanding of justice, judgment and love translate into theories of culture and of positive law? We Christians obviously have a dark history of presuming license to employ physical violence against others — particularly our Jewish neighbors, but also fellow Christians with whom we disagree on matters of faith and practice — in order to establish what we think God’s community of peace should look like on this earth. Indeed, St. Augustine’s tract against the Donatists itself represents the temptation to appropriate the mechanisms of state violence in the service of a specific Christian view of the peaceable kingdom.

On this point I envy my Catholic friends who can point to Balthasar and the nouvelle theologie behind the Second Vatican Council for a rich contemporary understanding of justice, judgment, and pluralism. I don’t think the usual evangelical default to Kuyper and “common grace” helps very much. In fact, for Christian scholars of the law and culture in the evangelical tradition, I think developing a meaningful theology of justice and judgment in a pluralistic world is one of our most pressing tasks.