You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your
soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The
second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other
commandment greater than these.” Mk 12:30-31 (NRSV)
The words of Mark
12:30-31 remind us that a love which is rooted and grounded in
the life and teachings of Jesus Christ is called to console the one crying in
the silence, the one consumed by agony and pain, fearful of a wilderness, and the
othering of their soul. It is to comfort those who are unemployed, hungry,
those who have lost loved ones through personal as well as structural violence
of body, mind and spirit, their hopes seemingly dashed. Beloved, love of neighbor, inclusive of enemy,
is not about agreement or allegiance of philosophy and rhetoric but about a
common humanity grounded in the love of God.
The logical act is to love and thus overcome, with a lasting power,
those interlocking oppressions which would alienate and demean that common humanity.
In this light, those who would love, and this a matter of
justice, are called to embrace a politics of care and concern, a narrative of compassion,
the embodiment of Micah 6:8. Their politics,
as a means to express a civil society is to love a holy and sacred humanity. Their
politics thus seeks to sooth the greatest desire of the soul, that is to
experience justice. Whatever power or
policy justice must be its call. That
said, new times, new narratives call for new articulations of justice. Articulations of justice are strategies
employed to express certain desires of the soul. To provide space for the fulfillment of
imaginations formally sequestered. They
are strategies of survival to celebrate an authentic reality of being in the
face of difficult concerns. Articulations
of justice are foundational to a social contract which is foundational to a
civil society. That said, justice, a
critical element of a social contract, should be received as a means of living
out those ties that bind disparate and distinctive cultures together. Social Contract is an implicit agreement
among the members of a society to cooperate for social benefits, for example by
sacrificing some individual freedom for state protection. Theories of a social
contract became popular in the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries among theorists
such as Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, as a means of
explaining the origin of government and the obligations of subjects.[1] That said, a rethinking of the social
contract, within the U.S. context, particularly in light of a shifting
demographics, within a discourse on articulation’s of justice demands an
analysis of foundational elements which are the ground of a social
contract. In light of the processes and
functions which seek to promote a civil society such as communities of faith,
educational institutions, family, and law enforcement which historically has
employed programs such as stop and frisk, a broken windows policy, including
the tragic incidents that resulted in the death of innocent people of color
dying at the hands of police departments throughout the nation, the social
contract should be renegotiated to a more inclusive, holistic reality.
The
other was never included or envisioned by those who initiated the
contract. The contract was exclusive to
one and not to the other. Fundamentally
the social contract first expressed by Rousseau and other philosophers must be
renegotiated and re-imagined towards an inclusive orientation.
A renegotiation
of the current social contract, this includes concerns of theological,
ecological and economic import, does not
necessarily mean a wholesale rejection or denial of the status quo but it does
mean that the current social contract which initially emerged out of a 17th
century European context and adopted in the United States as a means to the
viability of a master slave context which gradually evolved into realities of white
supremacy and privilege and a denial of the humanity of the ‘other’ must be, in
some sense, reconfigured to align with new and revolutionary articulations of
justice. A shifting demographics and a
recasting of the grand narrative of love towards an inclusive institution is a
tremendous opportunity to re-imagine a civil society that works for all people as
a matter of sustainability and not a matter of “king of the hill” as is for
some under the current social contract oriented towards the accumulation of wealth
and material which have historically sustained a narrative of white supremacy
and privilege.
The present state
of political, economic and socio-cultural affairs is such that the concern at
the root of the social contract, this from an ethical perspective, is the sustainability
of as well as within a civil society.
Black Lives Matter (BLM), The Tea Party, and the rise of Donald Trump,
including stirrings of racism, sexism, transphobia, bigotry and various forms
of hatred, is each a result of a need to address the aforementioned concerns of
sustainability as an emerging component of the social contract. Of course, we don’t address the social
contract, and its implications, separate from or absent of a discussion on
globalization.
Globalization has
changed the rules, terms and conditions of the social contract necessarily
causing significant consternation among those who traditionally and
historically have benefited from a social contract which was primarily focused
on maintaining their place of support. The
situation, now global, has given rise to extremist who play on the fears and
anxieties of many people who seem to have lost hope. Globalization, a multi-dimensional term defined
as a process interconnectedness of the economies driven by investment and
capital flows, change in technology and trade and liberation, should be a
construct within a discourse on justice.
The question of concern at this point is, “Is Globalization compatible
with social justice?” This is a question
posed by Sam Gindin, the Packer Chair in Social Science, Department of Political
Science at York University in Toronto.
His question, in light of significant global tension as evidenced by the
many people who have fallen for the complicated narrative of terrorism brings
into stark view concerns of justice and the need to re-evaluate the social
contract.
While this writer does not advocate or condone the actions
of the terrorist, it is nevertheless considered that the terrorist should be,
no, they must be received as a response to or product of empirical actions
dictated by social, political and economic concerns of power inculcated or
instilled within the narrow confines of a social contract reflective of wealth and
material concerns of those privileged and complicit. The horrific violence
which characterizes the actions of the terrorist must be considered a means to communicate,
to cause those who hold some allegiance to this social contract to feel the
pain and hopelessness that has engulfed their soul, seemingly eclipsing the
hopes and dreams which formerly defined the life of the one who is now a
terrorist. How should globalization
engage the discourse of terrorism, of the lost and oppressed, the
disinherited? What does this discourse
look like particularly within the idea or concept of a civil society?
Reflecting on an interview conducted by Sara Reardon of Scott Atran, a noted anthropologist entitled “Looking
for the roots of terrorism” http://www.nature.com/news/looking-for-the-roots-of-terrorism[2] in
the online journal Nature, An International Weekly Journal of Science, the
words which resonate throughout the interview are justice, care for the soul,
and the criticality of Simon Weil’s words – “Attention is the rarest
and purest form of generosity.”[3] Weil’s
words, though written in a letter to a friend in April 13, 1942, are no less
powerful and no less necessary in our day. Terrorism, within a
discourse on attention and generosity, is a narrative determined by an extreme
loss of identity, rejection and the inability to be seen and heard by those
whose vision and hearing are framed and contoured by a social contract which
doesn’t consider them or their humanity.
The question asked by the terrorist more and more is “Have you seen me? Do
you comprehend my pain, my suffering?” Sadly, it would seem that those who
benefit from the social contract seldom see or hear the plight of those in pain
and suffering except through the actions of terror.
The terrorist
exists because of a lack of vision framed and contoured in generosity and expressed
by society except as determined by a narrowly determined social contract. This has been the case particularly as
evidenced by the racism, sexism and discrimination practiced here in the United
States. So in some sense terrorism is a
product of a society who, for decades, fails to give the attention necessary
for the soul and this same society lacks certain generosity towards those who
are not beneficiaries of the social contract. That said, this writer does not
deny certain responsibility and accountability regarding the actions of the
terrorist yet to ignore, neglect or just cast aside the injustice which
perpetrated the action would be to deny a particular dialogue that might take
shape in pursuit of care of the soul.
The question
posed at this moment in time to this writer is, “if a society practices
exclusivity and neglect as a means toward economy and privilege is that society
civil? This question elicits thoughts of a society brutal towards those who are
the other, who are not a part of the social contract as determined.
Based on the
interviews of Scott Atran the terrorist would seem to be a most lonely person,
dismissed by a culture and society who have no time for the care and concern of
those who are not participants regarded by the social contract. There is then a responsibility, even an
accountability to alleviate this pain, to be free of continual suffering just
as there is a responsibility to live out the social contract regardless of the
pain inflicted upon those external to that social contract, to be safe and
secure in the midst of a world of terror and uncertainty. Indeed, this would seem to be an impasse.
Matthew 5:43-45
You have heard that
it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But
I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those
who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that
you may be sons (and daughters) of your Father in heaven.
How should the
Christian respond to the terrorist? Jesus
Christ has given the answer for the Christian.
“love your enemies, bless those
who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully
use you and persecute you, that you may be sons (and daughters of your Father
in heaven.” How do we love, yes, really love as Jesus Christ has called
us to love? Is this love beyond human
thought and phenomenon? Is it practical?
It is a truth that when one speaks they do not take their words or the hearing
of their words without careful thought and intent. The words of Jesus Christ are a gift to
humanity because we, that is humanity, are
capable of the love Jesus Christ espoused. We can love, this with abandon. Yet
if humanity is capable of the love Jesus Christ espoused then why the impasse,
why the violence which daily strikes at the soul?
There are times when
answers deny the depth of the question, the hope intended for a soothing of
one’s soul. This is the case of a love
which beckons the soul to a nourishment formerly without. Love is not just about answers, which tends,
because of hubris, to assuage the ego, but more so it is about oneness and
healing, it’s about solidarity with the commonality of all humanity. It is more
than justice yet inclusive of the same. The
complexities of this life with its many layered dynamics and dialogues demands
that love be the primary locution of human interaction for it is love that will
make away through the impasse. Without
love what then is a civil society but a mere menagerie of conflicting
ideologies and sorted politics. The
horrific violence of the early 21st century make an understanding of
love and social justice urgent matters of concern.
Engaging the issues which so easily beset humanity and her
institutions I am reminded of the power that assumes desires and concerns
within global constructs. Power, which
should be utilized for the betterment and justice of humanity, to release those
better angels is conceived as a destabilizing force necessary for the
maintenance of controlling structures.
Power seeks to maintain power.
Institutions are not for the sustainability of a humanity which
developed the institution but more so these institutions are a means to express
the power of the state and corporate desires. Love, justice and even compassion
are necessary fabrications toward a maintenance of those structures. So, while on the one hand the institutions
provide some sustenance to the citizen and the hopefully the refugee the
institutions inclusive of the military industrial complex and civilian corporations
would seek to be the master of their destiny which is a concern of the
terrorist.
Terrorism is not primarily about the act of terrorizing for
the sake of terrorizing but should be received as a denial, rejection or
throwing off of totalitarian institutional corporate power. Terrorism is particularly antithetical to this
power as defined by the social contract.
That said, it should be considered a critique for those who would
receive such a critique. As I, a
Christian minister, engages terrorism as a critique of this power, a reality of
the state regime, I find that terrorism is, for some, a means to hope, even to
liberation and a means to heaven. In
this sense the cross of the crucifixion becomes the succinct offer, the
embodiment of terrorism, as it is, at least for me, the ultimate critique of
the state. Indeed, to equate the
Crucifixion of Jesus with terrorism, for some, might be unsettling.
According to an article written by Steve Mansfield entitled
Torture and the Killing of Jesus in the Huffington Post of December 12, 2014, the
crucifixion of Jesus was a state terror.
The crucifixion was capital punishment for those considered insurgent,
an enemy of the state. From the
perspective of the Roman state, i.e. Pontius Pilate, Jesus, his disciples and by
implication the movement were a profound danger, a threat to the regime of the
emperor. That said, there was fear at
the highest levels of the Roman power structure that to kill Jesus would make
him a martyr thus creating a spectacle that would give rise to a revolt,
necessarily destabilizing the power structure in Judea and surrounding areas. The power of the martyrdom of Jesus, as a
socio-political as well as a religious event, cannot be overstated for it was
his martyrdom which eventually transitioned the Roman empire by 400 A.D.[4]
from paganism to Christianity with Emperor Constantine converting to
Christianity in 312-313 C.E.[5]
I find myself somewhat conflicted on the matter. According to Gerald Seymour in his 1975 book Harry's Game, “One man’s terrorist is another man’s
freedom fighter.” I ask then, “Should the crucifixion be received in that
light.” Should I re-evaluate my theological position on terrorism and the terrorist? I suppose in some sense this re-evaluation might
be a study in perspectives on power and the critique of power as means towards
narratives of control, sustainability, and those hopes which nourish the soul and/or
to a lesser extent the ego. How, then should I look at the terrorist
attacks in Europe, Israel-Palestine, Turkey, Iraq, Iraqi Kurdistan, Syria, Libya; the Middle
East, and places formerly of the Ottoman Empire? Difficult indeed as these
particular situations emerge from a complex discourse on colonization, remanences
of the “white man’s burden” an ode to American Imperialism and its
sub-discourse on the strategic, associated economics and displacement of people
from homelands inhabited for 100’s or even thousands of years and unsettled
grievances.
In the Wednesday, August 10, 2016 issue of the New York Time
Magazine there was an in-depth analysis of issues, concerns, and challenges of
the Middle East written by Scott Anderson entitled Fractured
Lands: How the Arab World Came Apart. The article delves into the historical reasons
for fractured lands and its people and current political-military policy which
continue to maintain control over the Middle East begun in earnest by the
European powers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Today as I remember my time in the military
in support of long standing agreements among the western powers to control the
Middle East I am mindful of the ideology and the rhetoric of politicians, and the
men and woman of the Military Industrial Complex, the surrogates for concerns
of military and economic domination.
Christ calls me to love.
To that end I believe the Christian is called to be a critical thinker,
to study and analyze the situation, the context. To express that love, to be
intentional, for Christ, himself was one of intention. (Ephesians 1:9) In that light, I ask, “Can that which was a
burden, and in some cases a murderer of a fractured and its people and once
again be the hope in the midst of the fracturing initiated by the Western
powers?” Mindful of the journey of the Apostle Paul formerly Saul[6],
a former murderer of Christians, I am compelled based on the life of the
Apostle Paul to say yes, it is possible and very necessary.
Beginning to think in a different way requires us to take different
positions on the subject of knowing: to open up spaces for new ways of thinking
and to consider our own thinking in terms of how our goals affect our perceptions.
I have become convinced through my journey of gender,
sexuality and race that a way, a method, if you will, which accomplishes a
critical analysis of theological interpretations, the constructs which are the
foundation of social, cultural and political policy positions. The goal of this
method must be on the one hand a deconstruction of interpretations which deny
the full and unmitigated participation of all people in a social contract. To
delink modes, notions, and methods of material and production as means towards
a fulfillment of the social contract from the supremacy of one group or
community. There must be a rethinking of imagination, forms, processes, structures,
actions founded and grounded in colonization and the desires of white
supremacy. I suggest that the goal to
change the mind and thus make space for a different imagination is one of
generational discourse.
As a Christian minister and a transgender woman grounded in
Christ, whose theology is life giving, life affirming, seeking to love all of
creation, this from a postcolonial perspective, my response is not so much an
answer or prescription but a means for you, the reader, to engage your own
response, if you choose, to the terrorist.
That said, the terrorist present the well meaning, those who desire to love with serious challenges and difficulties indeed and maybe there is no way, no method to undo the wrong done. The sobering of this profoundly sad circumstance calls me to prayer and this without ceasing.
[3] From an April 13, 1942 letter to poet Joë
Bousquet, published in
their collected correspondence (Correspondence [Lausanne: Editions l'Age
d'Homme, 1982], p. 18).
[4] http://gadling.com/2010/09/21/the-death-of-paganism-how-the-roman-empire-converted-to-christi
accessed August 15, 2016.
[7]
Ivone Gebara, Longing for Running Water:
Ecofeminism and Liberation (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999), 21.
