Democrats Play the Fear Card, Too

I saw this new add from the Hillary Clinton campaign, at Political Base.



So, which candidate is using Karl Rove's playbook?

Political Links

I've been knocked out for a while with the flu-bug-from-hell, and am still a little wobbly. So, absent any coherent thoughts of my own after spending the better part of the last six days feverish, weak, and coughing my lungs out (whatever you do, don't come near me - you want no part of this) I'm posting links to a few political posts that my addled brain has found either interesting or encouraging:

Here Mark Nicholas, formerly of BluegrassReport.org (which is now once again all-but-defunct) now with Political Base, explains why Hillary Clinton has lost his vote. While Mr. Nicholas - who still considers himself a supporter and fan of former president Bill Clinton - tosses a little vitriol Hillary Clinton's way, this piece is also a somewhat belated love letter to Barack Obama. Most interestingly, he argues, "Barack Obama is the natural continuation of that Clinton legacy, not Hillary Clinton."

Evidently, while I was either unconscious or totally incoherent Tuesday night, Texas state Senator Kirk Watson appeared on CNN in support of Barack Obama. Well intentioned, no doubt, but... Let's just say, with friends like these...

Sen. Watson's performance was a disaster, as many have noted. When asked to produce a single one of Obama's legislative accomplishments, he could not. This reinforced the myth (here I mean, more strongly, the colloquial lie) that Obama is all style, no substance. In response, Michael Westmoreland-White at Kentucky Fried Politics offers this partial list of Obama's accomplishments.

On the same subject, Jack Turner of Jack and Jill Politics has an even more comprehensive message on Barack Obama's experience. Included is a two-part strategy for how to be helpful when responding to the criticism that Barack Obama has no substance:

1. Demonstrate that he does have substance (both Turner and Westmoreland-White's posts do this), and

2. Flip the question.

Turner notes that appearing on behalf of Sen. Clinton, Stephanie Tubbs Jones did no better outlining legislative accomplishments than Kirk Watson did for Barack Obama.

Meanwhile, unless you've been trapped in a cave like me, you've probably seen that presumptive Republican nominee John McCain is getting some questions about his relationship with a blonde lobbyist. Sorry. No link, and no comment. God knows there are enough reasons not to vote for McCain, who recently reversed his courageous stand against torture, without a sex scandal. Having sold his once maverick soul to win the GOP bid that had always eluded him, I don't care what he did or didn't do with this or any woman (or man). In my moral calculus, sex has nothing on supporting the perpetuation of an unjust war, and removing limitations on conduct within that already unjust war.

So long, Straight Talk Express.

(For more on the once-noble McCain and torture, see here.)

Quote On Christianity and "Empire," Plus Reflections

Sorry I've been mostly AWOL of late, breaking my blogging fast only on occasion, merely to post Obama video clips.

I've been reworking some of my theological and academic projects, and such work can't be broken down in a nice and neat way for this blog. This blog started as a response to my own (accidental) participation in the "culture wars," and the content here has reflected that. While I grew up an evangelical Christian, I also grew up a liberal Democrat, and that created and interesting dichotomy from which to write. Additionally, my brief experiences as a pastor, and especially the abuse I took from a congregation that led to my resignation from ministry (and nearly, for a time, to the dissolution of my marriage) motivated me to write out my peculiar theological take on hot-button social issues.

While I have yet another post on abortion and scripture (an exegesis of Exodus 21:12-27, focusing on verse 22) outlined and ready to go, I can't bring myself to write it, much less post it. Why? Frankly, I'm tired of that conversation. It isn't getting us anywhere.

Many of the conversations that have happened here over the years have been the same way. Though I've loved them, at their best they serve merely to provide some relatively safe arena in which those on the left and the right rehearse their best arguments. There's a place for that, no doubt. That place may even be here. But I simply haven't been able to get up for those conversations lately.

Neither have I been able to get up for conversations concerning the role and authority of scripture, or principles of Biblical interpretation. And while I still hold that religious language is principally metaphorical, and that faith is a condition of radical dependency and a commitment to a comprehensive way of life rather that the ability to articulate intellectual agreement with speculative propositions, there really are only so many blog posts I can squeeze out of that.

Meanwhile, I've been cruising toward graduation wondering what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. Least importantly, but most pertinent to this conversation, I've been wondering how I'm going to spend my academic life. One of my advisers tells me that at some point I'm simply going to have to drop anchor somewhere. But where? That question, far more than any of the artificially hot-button social issues that comprise the so-called "culture wars" that I've been fighting in and commenting on, has been burning in my brain.

To wit, I've been working on two separate thesis ideas, with one question navigating the treacherous waters between them: Am a philosophic theologian, or a theological ethicist? Of course, both of those rest on contrived distinctions created in an academic climate that favors specialism to the detriment, I would argue, of authentic theology (that is, theology that refuses to be sequestered into its own little corner of the academy). But, in the meantime, my friend who counseled me to "drop anchor" is right. I probably can't learn everything about anything, but I certainly can't learn everything about everything.

So I'm trying to choose between an overtly philosophic thesis that uses, among others, William James, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, and Alfred North Whitehead to speak to the relationship between religion and science, and an overtly ethical thesis that explores the history of Christian reflection on violence, especially revolutionary violence.

That overtly ethical thesis idea, you might guess, started with a post here on James Cone's defense of revolutionary violence. But as I study more, I'm beginning to notice that the way I've laid out the topic for myself, narrowly looking at Christian tools for resisting oppression and empire (which go hand in hand) especially concerning the moral permissibility of violence is flawed in two related ways: First, it is too limited, and second, it fails to understand the nuanced nature of empire and oppressive power differentials. Consider this quote (which made me jump up and down, and then run to the computer to break my unintentional blogging fast) by Joerg Rieger, from his essay "Christian Theology and Empires" from the book that he helped edit, Empire and the Christian Tradition: New Readings of Classical Theologians:

The fact that despite widespread initial support among the population some churches and bishops in the United States opposed this war [that is, the US invasion of Iraq - CB] might be seen as a sign that the empire can never completely control Christianity.

Yet this rejection of war is not enough because the methods of empire have changed dramatically. War is not the only problem and perhaps not even the primary one; war has not been particularly effective in recent history and many of its supporters have become disillusioned. The deeper problem has to do with more covert expressions of economic and cultural power which drive broad processes of globalization.

So what?

Broadly, this means that violence isn't the whole picture, and perhaps isn't even the biggest part of the picture. Violence is only one of many forms that coercive power manifests, and isn't always particularly effective. And any Christian ethic of resistance has to be concerned with much more than just the ethics of violence- whether it be criticizing oppression as a form of violence or reflecting on the moral permissibility of the oppressed responding violently to the violent oppression.

My task then, if I choose the theological ethics route, is to reflect on what tools Christian theological reflection has for responding to the complex phenomena of empire, oppression, and power differentials. The biggest tool, however, that I think Christian theological reflection (or any theological reflection - this claim is by no means limited to Christianity) has to offer is this: a prophetic refusal to allow the broad spectrum of human goods to be reduced purely to economics.

More on that later, as that is a rich sentence that needs to be unpacked.

Oprah on Obama

Looks like my blog is turning into Obama Central...

I just saw this video at Jack and Jill Politics. There are a number of juicy sound-bites, but my favorite is this:

I would never vote for anyone based on gender or race. I'm not voting for Barack Obama because he's black; I'm voting for Barack Obama because he's brilliant!

Obama in King's Pulpit

While I share Michael Westmoreland-White's reservations about politicians in pulpits, I also share his desire to share this sermon, delivered by Barack Obama yesterday to the congregation at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta:



For more, click here.

Obama's Translation of Black Liberation Theology

Amy just sent me a link to this, from The Stranger, exploring how Barack Obama translates Black Liberation theology.

A must read. Thanks, Amy.

Don't Hate the Playa', Hate the Game

Today, after I picked Adam up from preschool, he told me he wanted me to call his Mama, because he had a message for her. His message, anticipating his third birthday:

Mama, you're my buddy, and you're very pretty, and I want "Meet the Robinsons" for my birthday!

__________

[Added at 8:20pm]

As we were putting him to bed, Adam reminded his Mama that he wanted the movie "Meet the Robinsons" for his birthday. Sami then said, "We'll see if we can find it."

Adam coolly replied, "Maybe its at Target, Mama."

Democrats for Mitt Romney

From Daily Kos.

I don't endorse screwing around with elections, even if the Republicans did it first. But this sure is funny:

Is "Pro-Choice" the Same as "Pro-Abortion"?

I've written on abortion here a few times, most notably here (an ethical analysis of the phrase "abortion is murder") and here (an exegesis of Jeremiah 1:4-5, a verse often used as a proof-text to show that God is opposed to abortion). But I haven't written much on the subject lately, because I've found that while such posts tend to spike participation in the comments section, they don't actually generate good conversation. In fact, I all but vowed never to blog on abortion again. Arguments concerning abortion generate so much more heat than light.

But...

Today I stumbled on this post by Frank Lockwood, the Bible Belt Blogger, and Religion editor at the Arkansas Democrat Gazette. In it Mr. Lockwood, formerly of the Lexington Herald Leader, while discussing whether or not "Mike Huckabee is destroying the old Reagan coalition," mentions "pro-abortion-on-demand party bigwigs" of the old GOP.

I shuddered. And not just at the notion that the Republican party could once have been said to be run by those who do not favor the criminalizing of abortion, though that would indeed be jarring news to a neophyte like me if I didn't have at least some grasp of recent political history. Mostly I shuddered because the descriptor "pro-abortion-on-demand" is, with the possible exception of "baby-killer," the least charitable (and in most cases, least honest) way to describe those of us who believe that abortion should be in at least some cases a legal option.

One commenter on the post, going by the handle UKLutheran, put it nicely:

It actually comes across as quite biased when you say "pro-abortion," suggesting that supporters of reproductive rights are members of the "voluntary human extinction movement" and favor abortion over childbirth.

In contrast, the term pro-choice suggests that one supports the constitutional right for a woman to choose: completely independent of whatever decision she makes. Even "pro-elective abortion" is misleading- not a few of the pro-lifers want criminalize even non-elective abortions (ie. abortions to save the life of the mother). Pro-choice implies support of freedom and rights, not a preference for any outcome.

On the other hand, many pro-choice people see abortion as an absolute moral wrong, but cannot see how government intervention, the abolishment of a right to privacy, and murder charges for desperate women (and doctors) will help matters.

To describe such people as "pro-abortion" is an absolute smear!

You need not be in favor of something (and can indeed be strongly opposed to it) without believing it should be a criminal matter or something the government should address (a sad fact that often gets overlooked in light of our increasingly large and meddlesome government).

That, as UKLutheran argues, many people who believe that abortion is in all or most cases morally wrong still oppose criminalizing it, shows one major problem with conflating "pro-choice" and "pro-abortion." That is, however, by no means the only problem.

Even those who believe that abortion is in many cases a morally permissible act are by no means best described as being in favor of it, as though they would jump up and shout "You go, girl!" whenever a woman makes the difficult and painful decision to terminate a pregnancy. It is quite possible to hold that a behavior is a viable moral option without being rightly labeled "pro" that behavior. Just War theorists, for instance, may hold that in certain circumstances military violence is a viable moral option. That would not necessarily make them "pro-war."

Beyond that, Mr. Lockwood did not describe the (mostly late, at this point) pro-choice wing of the Republican party as merely "pro-abortion"; no, they were "pro-abortion-on-demand." This communicates at best a certain casualness, as though they believed that obtaining an abortion was and should be a matter as simple as ordering a cheeseburger (not a morally or psychologically simple matter for me, a vegetarian, but I digress...) or a pay-per-view movie. Yet, pro-choicer that I am, I know of no one, regardless of their views on the ethics or legality of abortion, who treats actual instances of abortions casually. Yes, some people I know may be casual with their arguments (darn near careless, even). But I know of no one who thinks that an actual instance of voluntarily terminating a pregnancy is or should be casual.

Yes, I know people who think that it should be easier for a woman who has made the difficult decision to terminate her pregnancy to have access to a safe, legal abortion. I am such a person. The pro-life (perhaps a similarly misleading label, as many who advocate for criminalizing abortion are in favor of capital punishment and at least some wars, while also supporting economic and ecological policies that deal death daily) movement has succeeded in placing tremendous obstacles between many women and safe, legal abortions. I and others favor removing many of those obstacles. That hardly makes us "pro-abortion-on-demand."

I read Frank Lockwood's Bible Belt Blogger almost every day. Generally he is, so unlike the Faux News (aka Fox Noise) Network that placed this phrase in our collective consciousness, "fair and balanced." In this case, however - unless Mr. Lockwood has in mind particular GOP leaders who really believed that getting an abortion should be as easy as getting a Big Mac - I think he's guilty of a smear.

Are Theists Callous?

In a discussion at Debunking Christianity, a commenter wrote, of "theists" (exactly what was meant by the term was left unclear, so I'll assume it simply meant here those who intellectually believe the proposition that there is a God, and that God is omniscient, omnipotent, and benevolent):

They are as heartless as their alleged god, and the deaths of children being burned alive, don't trouble their beliefs in the slightest.

As someone who has been very critical of the project of theodicy, I am not entirely unsympathetic to the commenter's position. Theodicies themselves are very poor responses to actual instances of suffering. Those who are suffering are not likely to be comforted by a vigorous philosophical defense of a particular description of God. It is simply not helpful.

But, are theodicies intended to be responses to particular instances of suffering? Are they offered as the best response to this or that tragedy, in the moment of suffering? Despite my past wholesale attack on the ethics of theodicy, I don't think that they are. While - as someone who, though religious, does not believe in the traditional theistic description of God - I don't think theodicies work, in that they fail to reconcile that description of God with the existence of suffering; I also don't think that they are intended as pastoral responses to specific instances of suffering.

It would truly be callous, or, as the commenter put it, "heartless," for a theist to in fact be truly untroubled by "the deaths of children being burned alive." But, though theists maintain their belief in an omniscient, omnipotent, benevolent God, I don't think for a moment that they are, in fact, untroubled by specific instances of suffering. They may be quite troubled by children being burned alive in a church in Kenya, but that incident - tragic as it is - does not actually provide us with new information about the universe.

Any theist is already aware that we live in a universe in which it is possible that children could be burned alive in a church in Kenya. Any theist is already aware that such things in fact happen; they have happened, and will presumably continue to happen. This is not new information. As such, their beliefs must already account for the existence of such instances of extreme suffering. That their beliefs do not change after they become aware of yet another instance of acute suffering does not mean that they are not troubled by such instances of suffering. It simply means that such instances have already, presumably, been accounted for in their belief system. While I do not find their accounts for such instances persuasive, neither do I think that they should jettison their beliefs every time tragedy strikes, if in fact they find that their theodicies have sufficiently accounted for suffering in the world, reconciling it to a particular description of God.

At this point I think it would be instructive to note that there are in fact two very different problems of evil (or suffering, as some theodicies deny that suddering is, in fact, evil, or evidence of evil), though we often conflate them, as I think the commenter at Debunking Christianity may have done:

1. The philosophic problem of evil (or suffering), and

2. The existential problem of evil (or, again, suffering).

The philosophic (or, perhaps, logical) problem of evil is just what you might guess from its title, a philosophic/logical problem. It is to this problem that theodicies respond. This problem may be roughly rendered thusly:

The following propositions are logically inconsistent:

i. There is a God
ii. God is omnipotent
iii. God is omniscient
iv. God is benevolent
v. There is suffering/evil in the world.

That is, suffering is logically incompatible with the existence of an all-powerful, all-knowing, perfectly good and loving God.

The existential problem of evil is a very different problem. It is a personal one, and may be rendered thusly:

The actual experience of suffering and evil creates conditions in which a person is less likely to believe in God.

New instances of suffering in the world participate in the existential problem of evil, in that they create conditions within which one's faith is challenged. But they are not necessarily relevant for the philosophic problem of evil, because they are simply not needed for it. Any suffering of any kind, at any point in history, already challenges the existence of an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God. If someone has then responded philosophically to past instances of suffering, or even to the abstract possibility of suffering, and reconciled it sufficiently for themselves to the existence of the traditional theistic description of God, new instances of suffering do not pose an additional philosophic problem. But they may create an existential one.

This distinction is instructive because it acknowledges that we are not purely rational beings. Our logical/philosophical responses to suffering are not our only responses. And, even those whose theistic beliefs are philosophically untroubled by particular instances of suffering (such as the church fire in Kenya) are not necessarily either heartless or callous. They may have a profound emotional response to such suffering. Their faith may even strengthen that emotional response, and help them shape a powerful practical response. But that doesn't mean that this new concrete instance of suffering provides them with new information that should make them jettison their previous beliefs on the spot.