Wednesday, March 28, 2007

What is religion?

In London, a debate was held yesterday in which the motion put forth was "We'd Be Better Off Without Religion." Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens each took part on the "pro" side of the argument.

Unfortunately, no one bothered to define "religion," which frequently happens in these types of debates. No one bothered to differentiate one religion from another, either. This invariably leads to someone attacking "religion" on the grounds that it has caused horrible things to happen (the Crusades, 9/11), which leads someone else to defend "religion" on the basis that it has given us great works of art and philanthropy.

In (non)defense of religion
Christians should not attempt to defend "religion" unless the word is given meaning within a context. Often, "religion" is used to mean something like "a specific set of doctrinal statements and rituals observed by a specific group of people." In those cases, why should a Christian be required to speak on behalf of Buddhism or Islam? It's akin to asking a New Democrat to defend the divine right of kings simply because they are both "politics." Discussions of religion without boundaries, where a discussion about the dual nature of Christ suddenly veers off into a debate about Middle Eastern terrorism, as is typical of web forums, are worse than useless. Christians and nonChristians alike are guilty of these context-wrenching "drive-by comments."

We all have got religion
But that's only one definition of "religion." Another definition, which I prefer, is "one's view of ultimate reality." I strongly dislike attempts to separate "religious" beliefs from the rest of life, because our "religious" beliefs and presuppositions shape everything else we do, on a fundamental level. Atheism may not have specific rituals associated with it, but it assuredly affects life decisions just as much as traditional Catholicism.

One of the best recent comments along these lines came from, ironically enough, an atheist on a religion and philosophy web forum. She pointed out that, until the Enlightenment, the whole of life was considered part of "religion," making it impossible to distinguish "religious" motives from nonreligious. Criticizing events of the past because of "religion" therefore makes no sense, because everything in the past was based on "religion." I would extend this to current events as well. How can you glibly attribute something as complicated as, say, the troubles of Northern Ireland or the situation in the Middle East to "religion?" You might as well say that "politics," "geography," or "history" are to blame - such a statement says nothing.

I wish that the organizers of last night's debate had been so thoughtful about defining their topic.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Art, Vocation, and Making a Living

This blog post from the co-author of Freakonomics is a great starting point for a discussion of the connections between art, vocation, and money.

I think Dubner is right about there being a certain group people who see art and money as irrevocably divided:

This troupe of sneerers seem to believe that writing is art and that art comes from the soul and that the fruits of the soul shall not be bought.
This is definitely an attitude that I have encountered from time to time. This is also the attitude behind the concept of "selling out" - prostituting your art in order to make money. At the same time, American artists often daydream of landing a patron, along the lines of artistic patrons of the Renaissance. The patron, however, should not "interfere" too much in the artistic process.

In the world of philanthropy, donors are often surprised when they learn that employees of nonprofit organizations earn a salary, sometimes a substantial salary. Feeding the hungry or serving the needs of the world, it's apparently felt, is a purely altruistic endeavor. A salary clouds the purity of this altruism. Business, on the other hand, is viewed as a purely self-interested. Corporations don't improve the world - they are a necessary evil.

Why is there such a perceived discord in American culture between earning money and living out your vocation? I think clericalism within the church is largely at fault. The church has often taught the unBiblical idea that there are clergy who do the work of God and laity who support the clergy. Notice what this implies in terms of money and career:
  • Most jobs have nothing to do with God.
  • The work of the laity only provides money to support the clergy.
  • The clergy don't "earn" their money, but rely on the generosity of the laity.
  • There is no eternal value in the average job.
  • There is no monetary value in the job of the clergy.

Because art has often replaced religion in modern culture as a source of revelation and comfort, this same clericalism has bled over into the artistic world. "True artists" are set off from the rest of us, whose daily lives have nothing to do with art.

But what is money? Money is a symbol of value. How much is this cheeseburger/shirt/car/house worth to me? How much am I willing to pay this painter/doctor/psychiatrist/waiter to work for me? If someone's art is worth something, should you expect that people will want to pay money for it? Conversely, if you want to be paid for your art, wouldn't you want to create art that is worth something?

The problem comes when we see artists, clergy, and nonprofit workers who appear to be grossly overpaid. Poorly written pulp novels become bestsellers. Shysters fly around in private planes. Hospital CEOs make millions while sending collection agencies after the uninsured.

This should not be surprising. We live in a fallen world, and most of us will not see our true value on this side of heaven. But these inequalities do not negate the fact that the worker deserves to the paid for his work. All vocations have value. May the way we earn our living correspond to the work God has called us to.

Monday, March 12, 2007

The Argument Against Community, Part Three

Read parts one and two of this essay.

This is the longest section because I have found it the most difficult to articulate. In America, where "family values" are coveted by every social class and political party, it isn't easy to see why family might not be an inherent good. Nonetheless, the fourth argument against community in American culture is...

4) The priority of family. At first glance, family appears to be an ally of community. And in many ways, it is. Families are fundamental building blocks of community involvement and networking. People who are strongly invested in families are often also invested in community. Like a community, families connect individuals to a social network outside of themselves. They therefore play a similar role in the individual's life.

In this similiarity, however, lies the danger. Because a family can look so much like a community, and because family life promotes so many of the same values as community life, family and community are often viewed interchangeably. This is a mistake. The two should be viewed as distinct. In fact, the family can frequently be the enemy of community.

What I am trying to say here must be carefully nuanced, because I don't want to imply that family is never beneficial to community life. The clearest example of the distinction between community and family, however, might be seen in a person who converts from the religion of his family (or the non-religion of his family) to another religion. At the heart of religion, or at least, at the heart of the Christian religion, is community. (More on this in future posts.) Joining the community life of the new religion will almost certainly require breaking away from full membership in family life.

For example, a man from a Christian family who becomes Jewish may no longer observe Christmas and Easter. He may choose to respect his family and celebrate with family traditions, but his heart will not move in unity with that of his family as it once did. Or, more radically, he may come to see these traditions as antithetical to his new beliefs, and wholely reject everything about his family traditions. The man's true "home" is now found with his religious community. He is, ultimately, an outsider to his family, and his family are outsiders to his community.

Even when one's family and one's community are mostly in sync, family can become the enemy of true community. The family is an extension of the self, so pride and selfishness are ongoing threats. In many cultures, family clans dominate social life. The families of Romeo and Juliet don't seem to be that different from one another. Yet, family pride - genetic pride - consumes lives and destroys community. How many churches have been damaged by a pastor's desire to "pass down" the pulpit to his son, as if a church is a family business? How many pastor's children have been scarred because their parents failed to negotiate the treacherous channel between family and community?

Imagine a religious order - ostensibly a community of faith dedicated to common values - but one to which several sets of siblings happen to belong. There may be many situations in which those siblings are asked to choose between family and community. If family is chosen often enough, then the community will splinter. This tension can be seen in the Gospels, when James and John (brothers) argue about who among the disciples will be greatest. Fortunately, the brothers among the disciples (not only James and John, but also Peter and Andrew) placed their community and the mission of God above family loyalties.

There are pockets of America where family is considered "sacred." Given the tensions between family and community, I don't think it should be surprising that, in these are same pockets, newcomers often have difficulty in making a home, and ethnic or racial tensions are often high. "Family values" do not necessarily include hospitality, justice, righteousness, or even love, the marks of true community.

Monday, March 5, 2007

The Argument Against Community, Part Two

Americans, by and large, do not live as if community is a major aspect of their lives. Why not?

Read part one of "The Argument Against Community."

3) The priority of the individual. The individual, after all, is what America is all about. It doesn't matter where you come from, who your parents are, what your social class at birth was. The American dream is that you can make yourself into whatever you want. If something isn't working for you, drop it and try something else.

Much of the power of community, however, comes from its demand upon the individual to submit his or her personal needs to those of the community. For example, a monastery is defined by its "rule." If each monk were to take the freedom to choose when and how he would observe the rule, the monastery would quickly lose its distinctiveness from the world around it. The monastic order would dissolve into a collection of unhappy individuals.

American culture has made individualism a virtue, to the point where many supposed Christians say without a second thought, "God would want me to be happy" - a statement without precedent in Christian scripture or theology - as an argument for their individualistic decisions. True community asks that an individual be ready at any moment to reject his happiness for the sake of the group. Many Americans call that a fool's game. The same men who weep at the sacrifices of firefighters or soldiers begin looking for an escape hatch when called to sacrifice their personal happiness for that of their family, town, or country.


Next, the final argument against community, the priority of the family.