Thoughts on a Local Christianity

For a while now, I’ve been wrestling with the concept of a “local” theology – a theology that is hyper-contextual – where context and environment play a larger role than doctrinal creeds, traditions, etc. What follows are some thoughts on the potential for a local theology, Christianity, and God in response to the work of Derrick Jensen, Vine Deloria, Jr., and Daniel Quinn. Also, the majority of what follows was taken from an earlier email to a colleague so my apologies if some of that slips in.

The self is not separate from the place it inhabits.

Any civilized religion, including Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Confucianism, and so on, is a religion of occupation. A religion is supposed to teach us how to live, which if we're to live sustainably, means it must teach us how to live in place. But people will live differently in different places, which means religions must be different in different places, and must emerge from the land itself, and not abstract themselves from it...(A) transposable religion means that it could not have emerged from the particularities of the landscape. A religion is also supposed to teach us how to connect to the divine. Yet it a religion is transposed over space, it won't - can't - be so quick to speak to the divine in that particular place. The bottom line is that civilized religions lead people away from their intimate connection to the divinity in the land that is their own home and toward the abstract principles of this distant religion. - Derrick Jensen, Endgame, Volume 1: The Problem of Civilization, p 186.

Meaning comes out of place/context. Deity will likewise spring out of place; a god of a single place and single people. A local Christianity would make no claim to universals. If a faith is based in a locale, its claims should be valid only for its adherents - the local inhabitants. The beliefs, stories, rites, and ceremonies of a tribal Christianity should be specific to location. A ritual should be based upon what is most present. Why should we care about or carry on liturgies, stories, etc., about the Jordan River when we have the White or Wabash Rivers in our own backyards? What care should we have for holy sites of Palestine? Do we have no holy or sacred sties around us? Perhaps we need to find/create them? We hear every Sunday stories of Abraham, Moses, Isaiah and Jesus. Do we have no holy women or men among us whose stories are more relevant to our needs?

We face the crises of environmental destruction, globalization, and consumption. Part of the remedy is to ground people in their own locales creating relationship between who they are and where they are. From this commitment to place will hopefully come a culture created not by hierarchical systems or by those in power or the corporations, but by the people themselves.

Religious actions should be understood (and thus constructed or created) as performing, reminding, reinforcing connection between the community and the local (what is nearby). There are no obstacles to overcome (no Fall, no Redemption). Religious activities should be seen as an integral part of a cycle - rather than a recreation of an historic event. We do this not for salvation, but because it is a recognition of mystery - of our being a part of the movement of the universe. It is a sense of duty. We do it because it keeps us grounded in the cycle and web of belonging.

To do then:
- Focus on specific, precise practices (non-transferable)
-Screw the Great Commission; we have no duty other than to the place we are.
- Bless and pray for the local environment - the streams, rivers, animals, people, and trees; incorporate what is local into our sacred stories.
- Un-deify Christ. The emphasis should be placed on his teachings and example, not his person.
- Start from where you are - physically, not mentally. What are the stories of where you live? What are the stories of your family? What is the story of the land you inhabit?
- Awareness (such an overused term; maybe attentiveness is better?) - get lost observing something living near or with you. Just watch it/them/whatever for at least ten minutes. Don't think about anything, just watch - like you would television. Let the sauntering of a ladybug be your sitcom.
- Do not see events or other things primarily or initially with concern to their significance to you. The thing is significant in itself. To paraphrase Jung - that this thing is extraordinary in and of itself - not because it is extraordinary to yourself.
- Who are your neighbors? What trees live near you? What streams, creeks, rivers, waterways flow nearby? What are the names of the physical landscape features near you? What animals, birds, bugs, live alongside you?
- Meditate upon what rights you do not have (ex: I do not have the right to seek or create pleasure at the expense of others, whether human or non-human).
- Let's be honest...we need new scriptures. The Bible - already a text that combines different messages from different contexts - may or may not contain stories or advice of import today. What we say and do should be a thousand times more important than anything Christ may or may not have done or said.

Primitive (sic) peoples do not differentiate their world of experience into two realms that oppose or complement each other. They seem to maintain a consistent understanding of the unity of all experience. "Among the primitives," according to Joachim Wach, "there is no clear distinction between the notions of spiritual and material, psychical and physical." Rather than seek underlying causes or substances, primitives report the nature and intensity of their experience. Carl Jung clarified this approach to experience somewhat when he wrote, "Thanks to our one-sided emphasis on so-called natural causes, we have learned to differentiate what is subjective and psychic from what is objective and 'natural.' For primitive man, on the contrary, the psychic and the objective coalesce in the external world. In the face of something extraordinary it is not he who is astonished, but rather the thing that is astonishing." – Vine Deloria, Jr., "Tribal Religious Realities" in Spirit and Reason: The Vine Deloria, Jr. Reader, pp 354-355

Now on to sacred places -

Deloria puts sacred spaces/places into three different classifications:

1) Places where the impetus is on the actions of persons. Peoples actions make the location sacred. "In this classification the site is all important, but it is sanctified each time ceremonies are held and prayer offered." (Deloria, 328)

2) Places where the "holy" was made manifest - something of spiritual significance happened. This could be a teaching, a revelation, a message, an insight or an understanding. "(T)he essence of the event is that the sacred has become a part of our experience...There is immense particularity in the sacred, and it is not a blanket category to be applied indiscriminately...(The sacredness of the sites) does not depend on human occupancy, but on the stories that describe the revelation (i.e. the lesson, the message) that enabled human beings to experience the holiness there." (Deloria, 329)

3) Objectively holy sites - a place where the holy is sensed regardless of actions. Perhaps this might be comparable to "thin places" as those places in classification #1 would be comparable to making places thin through action or construction. "The third kind of sacred lands are places of overwhelming holiness where the Higher Powers, on their own initiative, have revealed themselves to human beings...places of unquestionable, inherent sacredness on this earth, sites that are holy in and of themselves...These holy places are locations where people have always gone to communicate and commune with higher spiritual powers." (Deloria, 332)

So far, I've avoided engaging the touchy subject of terminology, in particular, "sacred," "holy," etc. There are two things I sense when thinking about this. 1) Human action - whether it be via ritual or liturgy, or mindfulness or awareness - is important. 2) There must be some sort of acquiescence to the power of the other, so different from a worldview shaped by scientific reductionism. Let me say before proceeding further that I believe the two, though divided here for practical reasons, are nevertheless inseparable and cannot be manipulated or engaged thoroughly on an individual basis.

Referring to human action - humans have unique abilities; unique not in the sense that they are in some way superior to the abilities of other creatures, but unique in the sense that they are particular to our species. The best description I can come to so far is used both by Carl Sagan and Deloria - the cosmos becoming aware of itself.

Referring to the power of the other- This second section is the more difficult, as it relies upon objective activity. I wish to stat that (and this may be obvious) the objective activity does not preclude individual or group awareness. We might say that some or part of the power by which the objective activity is possible is indeed possible at least in part by the presence of that unique activity of humans - cosmic self awareness. But what is it that distinguishes this second experience (the objective divine) from the former, subjective divine? It could be that it is a matter of scale - or that the awareness comes from without - that it in effect is so powerful that there is no action required on the part of the individual or group.

On the nature of the objectively holy - There is a dilemma: do we say that the holy/divine is something separate in essence or substance from the created order? In some ways, referring to places as areas where the sacred exists objectively would seem to require this. What I would like to argue is this: that existence is mysterious creativity (drawing from Gordon Kaufman) and that his mysterious creativity is the movement, the force, the power dwelling within the universe. It is not separate from it. It is not different in essence. Indeed creation or existence = creative movement, force, mystery. The two are one and the same and we cannot nor should not expect to be able to, through any ritualistic means, obtain or wrangle with a creative force that is divorced from existence in essence or substance.

This creative force/existence is prior to us and continues with or without us. In this sense alone, there is an objective nature to the creative mystery of existence. Returning thought to the action of the individual or group as the cosmos aware of itself, we possess that capacity to look or gaze upon this mystery, if only in part - nonetheless we can get some sense of it. This is our gift, our evolutionary niche. Through some methods we can scrape away - thinning out places through ritual, through teaching to illuminate this aspect of ourselves and the cosmos as a whole. At the same time, because of our capability of realizing, of sensing this out, it is possible to be overcome by the presence of the sacred or holy (the creative mystery that is existence or some other feeling) and it is this overwhelming which relates the power of this mystery to us. This still leaves a question in my mind - does this not make creative mystery, especially in this objective sense, dependent then upon our recognition or sensation of it? It is here that I will have to take a leap and live in a faith that the universe, the cosmos is much grander than I or any person, and this cosmos which brought about our species, is capable (though not in a sentient, intentional way - these are, after all, human attributes) of welling up in spatial places without our participation.

The presence of creative mystery is everywhere. It could not be otherwise because it is existence. Its presence is there regardless of our presence. Humans (but perhaps not only humans) can be aware of this creative mystery. We can a) scrape away to "thin things out" if you will, through ritual, action, meditation, etc. - in other words, our actions have meaning and significance, and b) become aware of the overpowering presence of creative mystery - this is passivity in the presence of the objective creative mystery.

A Quote for Veterans Day

This was taken from today's edition of the New York Times.

"[We would] never be at the mercy of Providence if only we understood that we ourselves are Providence." - Vera Brittain, Testament of Youth

A Spring Morning in the Universe

I've been thinking lately about perspective and orientation and how these terms might be used to shape the way I think about the term "God." As mentioned in my last entry, I feel that the term can still be used, but only when one is looking from a certain direction and trying to point out particular features of the world. I've imagined that our understandings of and appeals toward God are like yelling in a particular direction - or maybe even like the act of yelling itself. It's something done with a purpose or intent to raise attention to or about a certain condition.

To act upon this vein and this thread is a small flash in a great sea. The universe takes a gasp, cries its first cry. Perhaps there are thousands, millions of these cries going on throughout the cosmos - a chorus of chirps, buzzings, and hums - a spring morning in the universe. It is a spiral. It is out of control - a whirlwind birthing off eddies and swirls. Anima mundi.

Creativity evolves and thereby God evolves. God is not God at the beginning. In the beginning there only IS. When we howl, when we yell - then God is born because we have taken notice. We have sensed the mystery of the one and the many, the whole and the part, and must name it. But it is not separate.

Can the Term "God" Still Be Used?

Here is another entry stemming from my discussion over lunch with a good friend from seminary. We both were commenting on the use of the term "God" and how we managed successfully or unsuccessfully to handle situations in which the Deity was invoked. We each proffered substitutes such as mystery, the holy, ground of being, etc.

This may sound all a bit silly but it is serious enough to the us as we both find ourselves embedded in religious traditions that are ordered around and based upon the term "God" and the connotations specific to our respective traditions. And, while in theological circles there may be plenty of impetus for the gradual replacement of the term, it is doubtful that "God" is going away any time soon.

I am a Roman Catholic who likes to sometimes attend High Church Episcopal services (I like the smells and bells). In either setting there is no escaping "God" in the theistic sense - not that I would expect otherwise. What I do then is try and interpret liturgy, hymns, and the scripture in light of my own beliefs - a process that I don't think is that far removed from what any other parishioner might do in trying to find portions of the mass or homily that apply to their own life.

When I hear or read of God referred to as a person, I perceive it to mean the whole of creation. When I hear or read of God's power or action, I perceive it to mean creativity and the things which have brought myself and the world the this moment. When I hear of requests or petitions made to God to bring about or cause a certain end or result, I perceive it to be first, an expression of hope and longing and secondly, a reminder that the faith in which these statements are made requires action of myself and of the community to live out and work toward those things we would pray to be accomplished.

And when I hear or read of worship and praise to be given to God, I perceive my own sense of awe, of existence, of humility, and of gratefulness in being. In this way then I can take part fully and honestly in pray, in liturgy, and in worship and devotion.

A Short Creedo...for now

Yesterday I had lunch with a friend from seminary and our conversation made realize both how long it has been since I had an blog entry of any sort and that also it would be a good time to try and get down some positive thoughts about my own beliefs. So, here's a short credo statement.

I believe that there is no God, if by that term one means an omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent being that is both transcendent of and immanent to the world (whether solely through the person of Jesus of Nazareth, or via the panentheism of Process Theology, or both).

I believe there is a creative force at work within the universe which is mysterious but also knowable. I believe this creativity is at work within creation precisely because creativity is an inherent capability and quality of existence. To be is to be creative - to impulsively engage in complexification, to have properties emerge that, once achieved, cannot be reduced to their origin.

I believe that we and the universe we inhabit are as we should be. We are neither an accident nor the result of a plan from before time. We are, to paraphrase Stuart Kauffman, expected. It is this expectancy that points us toward the creativity inherent in us and the world.

Is this pantheism? I admit that at first glance it does appear to be the case, however I would argue that the term pantheism does not adequately describe what I am proposing. It would be far too easy to pigeon-hole it as pantheism and move on. I do not believe either myself or my personal theology to be pantheistic in that there is no theism from which to make reference. Pantheism (just like the terms monotheism, polytheism, panentheism, etc.) is defined by its relation to the root term theism. I do not believe that the theistic attributes can be distributed to all of creation rather than be bundled up into one or multiple creators. I cannot direct toward animals, plants, or other persons, prayers of intervention or supplication as they have nothing to offer to me other than what they are. There are no magical or supernatural powers or realm to be tapped within the things of the universe.

As I do not subscribe to theism then, it is hard for me to say I am a pantheist. There remains though creativity, which is the power and property of all the universe. There remains awe, reverence and humility before the universe, before that which has come to pass and that which has brought me here to this very moment.

To watch or not to watch

Our daughter is almost four months old now and as each day passes it becomes more apparent to me how the values of my wife and I will shape my daughter's. What and how we eat, the language we use, our priorities, our concerns will most likely become hers.

Lately I've been concerned about television. Where I work I am able to observe a lot of children's television and I am considering how much exposure my daughter should have, if any at all. When I grew up, the options were much more limited. Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, Sesame Street, and 3-2-1 Contact were the main options. Of course there were only three networks to choose from, cable being a thing that our family couldn't afford. Cartoons were mainly reruns of Loony Tunes with fare such as the Smurfs, He-Man, and GI Joe coming along a little later.

Still my parents, being staunch Fundamentalist Baptists, found ways to whittle down even those limited choices. In time I wasn't allowed to watch the Smurfs (the character Gargamel was a warlock) or He-Man (there was only one "master of the universe" - God). Finally, 3-2-1 Contact was given the axe when my mother watched an episode with me that discussed plate tectonics and therefore gave the estimated age of the earth, 4-5 billion years old, which went against the creationist views of our faith (10,000 years old).

I'm not sure what effect all of this censoring had on me as I would allow my daughter read the Harry Potter series and I readily accept the scientific understanding of the evolution of the universe, solar system, and life on earth. Nonetheless, I do think this was a valuable lesson my parents gave me if only in that it provided an example of the duty of parents to be aware of the content of shows their children watch and to control what their children are allowed to view. And it was most likely this decision on their part that led me to read more than I might have if I had not been limited in my viewing choices.

So now here I am a parent in my own right and being faced with the same dilemma - to watch or not to watch. I am taken back by the amount of marketing directed towards children for movies that are, in all probability, far to violent for younger viewers. Case in point- the latest Indiana Jones movie. I like the Indiana Jones movies. And I did view them when I was younger. However, I was probably 10 years old before I saw the first one and then it was done in the company of my parents who made me cover my eyes during the more violent or scary parts. Also, I do not remember there being much marketing of the film towards children. There were no Indiana Jones toys, no Indiana Jones commercials run during times that children would be watching television. With this latest installment though the airwaves of children's channels such as Nickelodeon and The Disney Channel have been saturated with advertisements for the movie or toys, food products, etc. associated with the film.

Last night, my wife and I were watching Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest and noting how much violence was contained in the film, again one that was heavily marketed toward children without discrimination to age. I enjoyed the film, but my mind kept wandering to wondering what impact its images might have had younger viewers.

I know that this marketing trend will most likely not cease. The only possibility for change is if those in the positions of power and wealth sense blood in the water for some other target demographic. Yet the choice available to my parents still remains one open to me. The hard part is that it will require a discipline on my part that I am not sure I yet possess. I am inclined to think that maybe it will begin with small steps - limiting the time I spend in front of the idiot's lantern each week, maybe progressing on to further steps such as trying a week without watching television. Who knows?

A Passage from Rilke

Just some words from Ranier Maria Rilke's The Divine Hours: The Book of Poverty and Death, (III, 31) that spoke to me. Perhaps instead of the word "cities" one could substitue another term - consumerism, commercialism, or perhaps some other "ism." You decide...

The cities only care for what is theirs
and uproot all that's in their path.
They crush the creatures like hollow sticks
and burn up nations like kindling.

Their people serve the culture of the day,
losing all balance and moderation,
calling their aimlessness progress,
driving recklessly where they once drove slow,
and with all that metal and glass
making such a racket.

It's as if they were under a spell:
they can no longer be themselves.
Money keeps growing, takes all their strength,
and empties them like a scouring wind,
while they wait for wine and poisonous passions
to spur them to fruitless occupations.