Saturday, May 20, 2023

On Secession Then and Now

 

On Secession Then and Now

 

I’ve been reading the book And There Was Light, Abraham Lincoln and the American Struggle (Random House, New York, 2022) by Jon Meacham. Meacham makes it quite clear that at the beginning of the Civil War, and to some extent throughout the Civil War, the North was not fighting to eliminate slavery. Rather, the North was primarily fighting to preserve what they called “the Union.” By the Union they meant all of the states that were part of the United States antebellum, before any of them seceded. It was that way for Lincoln too, at least initially. Lincoln said that if he could preserve the Union without freeing a single slave, he would. He also said that if he could preserve the Union by freeing all the slaves, he would. Lincoln’s goal was to preserve the Union. He hated slavery, but eliminating slavery was not his primary concern as president. He saw emancipation partly as a moral good but primarily as a way of strengthening the North in its war with the South, that is, as a way of preserving the Union.

For the North, the Civil War was not primarily about abolishing slavery. For the South, that is precisely what it was about, or rather preserving it was. South Carolina and the other states that followed it in leaving the Union did so because they believed, probably mostly wrongly, that if they stayed in the Union, the federal government would find a way to free the enslaved people who were so important to the southern economy. After he was elected but before he was inaugurated, Lincoln went to some lengths to assure the South that he had no intention of doing that. The people of the South, or at least their political leaders, didn’t believe him. So they opted out of the Union that the people of the North so wanted to preserve.

Why was preserving the Union so important to Lincoln and to the public of the North? It wasn’t important to them because only by preserving it could they free the enslaved people in the South. The consensus, which Lincoln initially shared, was that the federal government had no legal authority to abolish slavery. (That, I suppose, is why the ThirteenthAmendment was adopted after the war). The North was willing to engage in a civil war that cost over 700,000 American lives and an untold number. of physical and mental damages to force the Union back together. Frankly, that the North was willing to do that has been puzzling me. I’ll ask again: Why was preserving the Union so important to Lincoln and to the public of the North?

The only answer to that question I can come up with is that Americans, at least in the North but probably also in the South, saw themselves as an experiment in popular sovereignty and democratic government. Those ways of organizing and running a nation didn’t exist in the world outside the United States at the time, or at least that’s what most Americans thought (and it really doesn’t matter whether they were right or wrong about that). The people of the North, it seems, believed that the Union falling apart would mean that the country’s experiment in democracy (such as it was) had failed. They must desperately have wanted it not to fail, for preserving it was, initially at least, the reason they fought such a horrific civil war against the states that had attempted to secede from the Union.

But wasn’t it true that the American experiment in democracy had failed in that way as soon as South Carolina seceded? Didn’t the secession of the other states of the Confederacy reinforce the truth that the Union had failed? Slavery shattered the Union, or rather, the southern fear that slavery might one day be abolished shattered the Union. The powers in the South were not about to let democracy take away their beloved enslavement of people with darker skin than the rest of us. The reasons why they were so attached to slavery were surely economic. The economy of the South, especially the economy of the cotton producing states, depended on the free labor of enslaved people.[1] The political and even the spiritual leaders of the southern states convinced themselves and their people that slavery was a moral good. They said enslavement was the natural and necessary state of people they considered hardly to be fully human at all. They insisted that God sanctioned slavery. So they fought the Civil War precisely so they would never lose their slaves. They sometimes cloaked that motivation behind a claim that all they were doing was defending “states’ rights,” but it isn’t hard at all to see through that smokescreen to the real, economic motivation of the Confederacy in fighting the Civil War. Slavery was indeed the rock on which American democracy foundered.

Yet actually was no way the North could undo the failure of the American experiment. It could, and did, reestablish the Union with all of the states it had before the war, but getting the eleven states of the Confederacy back into the Union through force of arms was not recreating the Union as it had existed before the war. Before any state tried to secede, the union of the states was voluntary. After the war, a significant part of the Union was there only because the North won the Civil War and forced it back into the Union. That part of the reconstituted Union was not there voluntarily. So the Union after the war just wasn’t the same as the Union before the war. Yes, the North recreated a Union in a political sense. Whether it did so in a moral sense is a different question.

I doubt that people would get that excited about preserving the Union today if a state attempted to secede. We’re told that secession isn’t legally possible. Maybe not, but, speaking for myself, I would be perfectly happy if the current Union broke up. Why? Because the conservative states of this country, mostly but not entirely in the Midwest, the intermountain West, and the South, have adopted policy positions so reactionary and oppressive as to be completely unacceptable. They finally got Roe v. Wade overturned and are now happily trampling the dignity and personal autonomy of the women of their states. They are passing legislation to bash gay and trans people. In Florida they are trying to keep schoolchildren from learning the truth about both human sexuality and American history. Worst of all, they imposed Donald Trump on us for four years of unmitigated political disaster.[2] They want to take this country back in time not fifty years, not one hundred years, but back to the era of robber barons of the late nineteenth century. They want to undo all or most of the progress we have made in the last sixty years or so regarding the equality of racial minorities, sexual minorities, and women. Under our federal system of government, they are able to block nearly all progressive legislation, and they do so with glee.

And, frankly, I’ve had it. In a sense, I wish the North had let the South go as states seceded in 1860 and 1861. I have one strong reservation about that wish of course. Letting the slave states go back then would have meant that slavery remained in force in them for God knows how much longer. But I dream of living in a nation not controlled by reactionary bigots the way my country nearly is today. We could make our country and the world better places if the more enlightened states of the Union weren’t hogtied by those reactionary bigots. If my state of Washington, along with other more progressive states like California, Oregon, New York, and several others could secede from the Union, I would support their doing it. This country is so divided politically that it would just make sense for it to be divided into two or more independent nations. I know it’s not going to happen, but a man can dream, can’t he? I pray that those of us Americans living in the twenty-first century not the nineteenth can find a way to break ourselves free from the Donald Trumps and Ron DeSantises of the world. I don’t know how to do it. I sure wish someone did.



[1] Free at least in the sense of paying no wages. Most slave owners, I suppose, inherited their slaves. They didn’t buy them. But human beings were regularly sold as slaves throughout the South. It has always seemed to me that the price of slave was a significant amount of money. Buying slaves was expensive, but hardly expensive enough to get the South to look for some other way to structure its economy.

[2] I say those states imposed him on us because Trump never won the nationwide popular vote. It was the disproportionate power of small population states in the electoral college, nearly all of them reactionary that made him president.

Friday, May 19, 2023

On God and War

 

On God and War

 

In his book And There Was Light, Abraham Lincoln and the American Struggle,[1] Jon Meacham tells of the way, at the beginning of the Civil War, both the Union and the Confederacy believed their cause was holy, that God was on their side, and that God would bring them victory in the looming conflict. Both sides dragged God into their purely secular struggle over secession and slavery. Was either side right? Certainly not the Confederacy. That side of the conflict was fighting to preserve the diabolical institution of slavery, something God would condemn not support. But what about the Union? Was God going to help them slaughter other human beings in the name of a purely political objective? Or was God there calling everyone to something else?

The American Civil War was, by far, not the first time warring parties had dragged God into their conflict. At least according to the famous story, the establishment of Christianity as the official state religion of the Roman Empire began when Emperor Constantine had a vision of the cross of Christ and the words “In this sign, conquer.” Whereupon he continued his martial effort to become Roman emperor, killing Lord knows how many people in the process. The Spanish Conquistadors in Central and South America thought they were doing God’s work as they committed genocide against native peoples and destroyed their political institutions and cultures. So did North Americans as they did the same to the native peoples of their part of the world. There’s also the famous story from World War I of how, on Christmas Eve one year, the German and Allied soldiers stopped killing each other, sang Silent Night together, then went back to killing each other. Take a break for Christianity, then go back to murder, seems to have been the theme of the day. Both sides in that horrific conflict thought God was on their side as they killed millions of God’s people.

All of which raises a vital question: How does God relate to human war? Does God take sides in human conflicts? Does God decide which party to a war is righteous and then work to secure military victory for that side? For the last two millennia Christians have thought that God does precisely that, also thinking, of course, that their side was the righteous one in any particular war. Somehow people, a great many of them claiming to be Christians, have believed that God gets personally involved in the most horrendous thing we humans do, namely, war.

And my answer to the question of whether God gets involved in war to benefit one side or another is loud, resounding, “NO!” One of the primary things we learn about God from Jesus Christ is that God is foundationally nonviolent. And we learn that God calls all of God’s people to be nonviolent too. Violence is immoral. Violence hurts God because it hurts God’s people. God never wants anyone to kill anyone else. When we humans go to war, God weeps. God calls all parties to a war to stop the killing and work nonviolently for peace. In the American Civil War, surely the Union had a more moral cause than the Confederacy at least to the extent that its objective was to abolish slavery. But war is not God’s way of solving problems. War is not God’s way of establishing justice. War is not God’s way of righting wrongs. It isn’t God’s way because the very essence of war is murderous violence. We humans try to cover up the horror of war by proclaiming the righteousness of our cause. By honoring those who commit the violence of war. By saying those we’re killing deserve what they get. God sees through all of that camouflage of horrendous violence. We might be able to hide the horror of war from most people. There is no way we can hide it from God. So no, God does not intervene in war to help one side or another. Ever.

So does that mean that God has no relationship to war at all? Of course not. One of God’s essential characteristics is God’s presence with God’s people collectively and with each person individually in everything we do, including war. But God isn’t there to facilitate one side’s victory over the other. God is there to support and comfort those who fight. To be their rock. To be their salvation. And God is there acting the way God always does. God is there in the war softly, gently, yet insistently calling God’s people to stop the violence. God never stops calling us to nonviolence, even, or perhaps especially, in war.

Yes, sometimes one side to a conflict is fighting to maintain something profoundly sinful. The Confederacy fought to defend and preserve the enslavement of millions of God’s people. Nazi Germany fought to take land from other people, then exterminate those people the way they tried to exterminate Europe’s Jews. There is no doubt that both of these causes were diabolical. were profoundly sinful. Surely they were something God wanted to end—now. But God doesn’t intervene to end anything like them, at least not directly. Rather, God is there screaming “No!” at us when we do such sinful things. God is there with the victims of our sin, suffering with them, dying with them, and holding them always in God’s everlasting arms of unconditional grace.

Why God doesn’t intervene to stop us when we do horribly sinful things like war, genocide, and the dehumanization of some of God’s people so we can more easily oppress and kill them is, perhaps, a mystery. That God does not is, however, undeniable. I mean, just look at all the horrors of human history that went on for years. Look at all the horrors of human history that are still going on. God didn’t stop them in the past. God isn’t stopping them in the present. Rather, God is calling us to stop them. But God never calls us to stop anything by violence. When we humans resort to violence because we think it will solve a problem, God is there saying, “No. There is a better way. There is the way of God’s nonviolence.” Jesus doesn’t call us to meek passivity in the face of evil, though a great many Christians have thought and do think that God does. No, God calls us to come up with creative, assertive, nonviolent ways to confront and overcome evil. We are God’s instruments in God’s nonviolent struggle against evil. We are the only instruments God has. And if we are to be true to our God, we must always be nonviolent instruments of God’s work in the world.

So how does God relate to war? Not by stopping it, as much as we may wish that God did. Rather, God is present in war the way God is present in everything else. God is present as a spiritual rock for those ordered to do the killing. For those who are  physically or mentally maimed. For those who are killed. And God is there saying to each one of us, “No! Stop the killing!” Folk, there is a better way. It is the way of creative, assertive, nonviolent work for the establishment of peace and justice for all of God’s people (and all people are God’s people). It’s way past time for us to stop the killing and listen to what God wants us to do instead. May it be so.



[1] Meacham, Jon, And There Was Light, Abraham Lincoln and the American Struggle, (Random House, New York, 2022).

Thursday, May 18, 2023

Horrors

 This post began as a diary entry, but for some reason I feel the need to post it here. So here it is.


May 18, 2023

 

It’s gotten to the point where I can’t listen to the news anymore. All you get is report of horror after horror. The horror of Ron DeSantis. He represents the horror of the Republicans’ attack on the right of women to make decisions about their own bodies. The horror of the Republicans’ denial of the reality of minority gender identifications. The horror of the Republicans’ attempt to keep schoolchildren from learning other realities of human sexuality. The horror of the Republicans’ attempt to keep American school children from learning real American history. In sum, the horror of the Republican Party turning fascist. There’s the horror of immigration at our southern border. The horror of the Russian invasion of Ukraine. The horror that I might lose the Social Security money I paid for my entire working life (and continue to pay for through self-employment tax), at least for a while, because the Republicans won’t vote to increase the debt limit unless we eviscerate our pathetic social safety network and harm millions of vulnerable people, myself possibly included. The horror named Donald Trump. The horror of American racism. The horror of climate change and the disasters it brings around the world. The horror of the rise in the world of the totalitarian Chinese government, which is grossly increase its country’s military power. The horror of Vladimir Putin turning Russia, a place I have spent years studying and even lived in for a brief time, into a fascist dictatorship. It’s nothing but horror after horror after horror. There are horrors that rarely make the news, like the homelessness crisis. The somewhat related horror of our massive failure to deal with mental illness in any constructive way. The horror of Americans’ pathology about guns and the consequent frequency of mass shootings among us. There are horrors that most people don’t think are horrors like the obscene amount of money we spend on the killing machine we call the US military. The horror of the way essentially every one of this country’s systems benefits the wealthy not the people. The list of horrors just never ends.

And there’s not a God-damned thing I can do about it. Not about any of it. I can’t get fucking Ron DeSantis out of office. I can’t solve the immigration issue. I can’t get the Russian military out of Ukraine. I can’t reverse global warming. I can’t house homeless people. I can’t provide mental health care for anyone. There truly is not one God-damned thing I can do about any of it. So why do I even listen to reports of it? It just upsets and depresses me. My whole life I’ve thought I needed to keep up on the news. Now, maybe not. It feels like more than I can bear. I’m old. I won’t have to deal with it all for very many more years, if years is even the right time measure for me to use. But still. It’s overwhelming. Old age is supposed to be a time of peace, or at least ideally it is. The news gives me no peace. So to hell with it.


Wednesday, May 17, 2023

No, I'm Not a Biblical Literalist

 

No, I’m Not a Biblical Literalist

 

The Scripture quotations contained here are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and are used with permission. All rights reserved.

 

I participate in a small group of clergy colleagues that meets once a week via Zoom. We call ourselves a lectionary group, and, though we also do check in and provide each other needed support, we usually do get around to discussing one or more of the readings from the Revised Common Lectionary for the coming Sunday. We all pride ourselves on being progressive open-minded Christians. We don’t believe that God wrote the Bible. We don’t believe that everything in it, or really much in it at all, is factually inerrant. We’re all trained, at least to some extent, in modern biblical criticism. We’re all seminary graduates, and we all have experience as church pastors. We’re all getting on in age. Three of us are retired. Only one of us is still serving as a church pastor (thought one of us has, until very recently, been the Executive Director of the Interfaith Taskforce on Homelessness in the Seattle area). Our discussions of lectionary passages can be quite interesting. We don’t always agree on how to read and find meaning in a particular biblical text that we’re considering. I suppose the group wouldn’t be much fun if we did.

We are not biblical literalists; but my wife has told me that one of our group, once told her that I am a biblical literalist. I don’t know how seriously he meant that statement, but it did remind me of a difference in the way the two of us often approach reading a passage in the Bible. It is the difference between reading a text for what it actually says and reading it to say what we’d like it to say. I’ll use the passage we discussed during our meeting this week as an example. It’s John 17:1-11. These verses are the beginning of what’s called the Priestly Prayer that John’s Jesus prays as the end of his life on earth approaches. The passage has Jesus refer three times to people he says God has “given” him. At 17:2 he says, “since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him.” The “him” here is, of course, Jesus, and the “you” is God. At verse 17:6a Jesus says, “I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world.” In verse 17:9 Jesus says, “I am not asking on behalf of the world but on behalf of those whom you gave me.” My friend who told my wife that I’m a biblical literalist and I had quite a disagreement at a recent meeting or our group about how to read these words. Let me explain.

I believe, indeed, I am thoroughly and strongly convinced, that any interpretation of any passage in the Bible must begin with an understanding of what the passage actually says. We start with what the words of the passage actually are. Any text, including any Bible text, has it own internal integrity. It says what it says. It doesn’t say what it doesn’t say. No legitimate exegesis of any biblical text (or of any other text for that matter) can begin without first understanding what the words of the text are and what they mean. Only then can we move to the task of discerning what the text may or may not mean for us in our contemporary context.

When we consider the actual words of John 17:1-11, we see that it posits two opposed sets of people. The text calls one of them “the world.” It calls the other one some version of “those whom God gave to Jesus.” The two groups are not the same. In the context of this text, we must understand “the world” to be a universalist term for all of the people of the earth. “Those whom God gave Jesus” are clearly a smaller group of people. It is the group people who have been drawn to Jesus and accepted his claim (which he makes in John but not much of anywhere else) that he came to earth from God (Whom he here calls “the Father”). The text then makes a distinction between the large group, “the world,” and the smaller group. It states quite explicitly how the small group got separated from the large group with regard to their relationship with Jesus. They are with Jesus because God gave them to Jesus. The unavoidable conclusion from the word “gave” is that Jesus’ followers did not come to Jesus of their own free will. They are with Jesus because God gave them to Jesus. Those whom God gave to Jesus are the passive recipients of God’s act of giving. Their coming to Jesus was God’s doing not theirs.

My colleague who thinks I’m a biblical literalist doesn’t like that notion. Neither do I. He objects to this passage because on its face it obviates the notion that people have free will. It makes faith in Jesus not our choice at all. It’s God’s choice. We are the passive objects of that choice not free, active subjects making our own faith decisions. I agree with my friend that this is the proper way to read this text, and I disagree with it as much as he does.

That, however, is where we part ways. During the Zoom meeting in which we discussed this text, he kept reading human free will into it. He thought that somehow it is possible to read the words of this text as affirming human free will, something that on its face it simply does not do. I am convinced that my friend was reading this text to say what he wishes it said not what it actually says. I know the temptation to read biblical texts that way. I feel it myself. I wish that this text affirmed human free will as much as my friend does. Yet when I feel the temptation to read something into a text that just isn’t there, I remember my training. I remember the rule of biblical exegesis that while we may often legitimately draw various meanings out of a text, we cannot read a meaning into the text that isn’t there. Our exegesis must not wander too far from what the text we’re considering actually says. We must always recognize that the words of a text are what they are even when we wish they were something else. That, I’m afraid, is what my friend was not doing with this text. He was making it say not only something it doesn’t say but something that is actually the opposite of what it says.

So does my insistence on the exegete sticking with what a text actually says rather than reading something into it that it does not say make me a biblical literalist? By no means! A biblical literalist would insist that it is true that God brings people to faith rather than people bring themselves to faith because that’s what this text says is true. I say it is not true. It is a common notion that faith is God’s gift, which may be true. What isn’t true and can’t be true is that God offers that gift to some but not to others. God doesn’t pick and choose that way. God never obviates human free will. We humans are created in the image and likeness of God. Any creature created in that sacred way must have free will. Those made in the image and likeness of God are not automatons who God operates by some kind of spiritual remote control. I say that our text says what it says, and I say that our text is wrong about what it asserts as true.

So, no. I’m not a biblical literalist. I am an ordained Christian minister who tries to adhere to academic standards as best I know them when I am interpreting scripture. I am convinced that everyone who interprets scripture is obligated to do the same. One of those standards is: Don’t wander too far from the words of the text. The text is what is and isn’t what it isn’t. We don’t have to agree with any text we’re reading. We all have an obligation to do our own discernment about what a biblical text means (though I trust we will do that with the assistance of good printed authorities on the text or under the direction of someone trained in proper biblical exegesis). I have been called apostate for disagreeing with a particular biblical text. But no, I am neither a biblical literalist nor an apostate. I am a Christian who strives to practice my faith with spiritual and intellectual integrity, not that I can claim always to succeed in practicing it that way. That doesn’t mean I have to accept everything in the Bible as inerrant, which I certainly do not. It means, among many other things, that I will not wander too far from the actual words of a text I’m interpreting. May we all adhere to that indispensable standard of biblical interpretation.

Thursday, May 11, 2023

Lies or Delusions?

 

Lies or Delusions?

On Wednesday evening May 10, 2023, CNN made the inexcusable journalistic error of letting Donald Trump broadcast his usual string of falsehoods to a national television audience. I won’t go into the specifics of all his lies. After all, I’m 76 years old. I may not have enough time left on earth to cover them all. His falsehoods on CNN fall into at least three categories: His claim that he won the 2020 presidential election, that nothing wrong happened in Washington, DC, on January 6, 2021, and that any legal proceeding that finds against him in any way is a political “witch hunt” not legitimate jurisprudence. We’ve heard all of these falsehoods before. Trump’s deluded supporters believe him, a fact that is simply beyond comprehension. That they do makes his falsehoods not just untrue but politically extremely dangerous. Still, he repeats them every chance he gets.

We’ve known for years that Trump cannot open his mouth without spewing falsehoods. Almost everything Trump says is false, but I think we have to ask: Are his falsehoods lies? To answer that question we need to know what the word “lie” means. Dictionary.com defines it as “a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth.” For a statement to be a lie and not merely a falsehood then, the person speaking it must know that the statement is untrue, and they must have an intent to deceive those who hear the statement. Saying something that isn’t true isn’t necessarily a lie. It may just be a mistake. So are Trump’s false statements lies?

There are two possible answers to that question. One is that they are indeed lies because Trump knows they are false when he makes them, and he intends to deceive his audience into believing them. The other is that Trump does not know that what he says is untrue. He may believe that what he says expresses factual truth. Let’s take a closer look at each of those possibilities so we can see which of them is worse.

First possibility: Trump knows that what he says is factually untrue. He knows, for example, that he did not win the 2020 presidential election. He knows, for example, that the election was fair and legally legitimate and that the American voters simply elected Joe Biden not Donald Trump. If this is the case, Trump is perhaps the most cynical politician this country has ever seen. If this is the case, he takes his followers for gullible, ignorant saps who will believe anything he tells them. He knows that millions of Americans will take what he says as true simply because he said it. If Trump knows that his falsehoods are false, he is telling lies in a cynical attempt to restore himself to power, power being the only thing Trump respects.

Second possibility: Trump does not know that what he says is factually untrue. If this is the case, Trump is pathologically delusional. If this is true, Trump is living in an alternate reality in which the facts are just different than they are in the reality in which most of us live. In that alternate reality, the facts are what Trump wants them to be. Because he wants them to be true, for him they are true. If this is the case, Trump is mentally ill. He is so delusional that he cannot be psychologically or psychiatrically healthy. If this is the case, Trump needs professional medical help that he is not getting.

So I ask: Which of these two possibilities is worse for the country of which Trump dreams of being an authoritarian ruler? This is not an easy question to answer, but I believe that the second possibility, that Trump is delusional, is more dangerous for our country than is the first possibility, that Trump knows that what he says is false and intends his statements to deceive. If Trump is merely a cynical deceiver, at least he knows the real facts of the matters about which he lies. If he does, there is at least the possibility that he could respond in at least a nondestructive, if not necessarily constructive, way to events in actual reality, as unlikely as that may be. If he is delusional, that possibility does not exist. He would be able to respond only to the falsehoods of his mentally unhealthy reality, the reality his disordered or even diseased mind creates for him. If Trump is delusional, constructive actions are not only unlikely from him, they are impossible.

Both of these possibilities are immensely dangerous for our country. In either case, Trump will use his falsehoods in his campaign to destroy American democracy and make himself our Fűhrer. We simply cannot allow Trump to gain power again whether he’s lying or whether he believes his falsehoods. Either way, the man is an American fascist. He does not intend his actions in the political sphere to benefit the country or the world. He intends them only to give himself power. It’s bad enough when politicians are just wrong about what they think the country needs. Things like the Republicans slashing taxes for the wealthy are horribly destructive, but it may be that some Republicans actually believe they are good for the country. It would be far worse than it would be with those Republicans in charge for us to put a man back in the White House who gives not one good God damn about anything or anybody but himself.

If Trump is the Republican nominee for president next year, as it appears he will be, our choice in next year’s election will not be between two different but well-intended visions of what this country needs. It will be between preserving American democracy and destroying it. Trump and his MAGA movement are not about the welfare of the American people much less the people of the world. They are about Trump in power. Period. We simply cannot let that happen. We must use every nonviolent means at our disposal to keep Donald Trump out of the White House.

Friday, May 5, 2023

On the Powers of the World

 

On the Powers of the World

May 5, 2023

Sometimes in the Bible answers to questions pop up for me that are not the answer the author of the question intended. I recently came across a good example of that phenomenon at 1 Peter 3:13: “Now who will harm you if you are eager to do good?” It’s clear that the author of this epistle (who certainly was not Saint Peter) intended his question to be rhetorical. He clearly thought the answer was, “no one.” He seems to be operating on the frankly naïve assumption that no one would have any reason to harm a person who is eager to do good. Why would they, after all? Good is good, and everyone wants what is good, right? Well, it would be nice if that were right, but my immediate answer to the text’s question was: How about the Powers of the world? They don’t maintain their power by applauding or even just tolerating what is good. They maintain their power by getting people to support and even participate in their evil. If they reward someone for having done good, and even if they do some good themselves, they do it for cynical political reasons not because they simply desire to do good. Who will harm you if you are eager to do good? The corrupt Powers of the world, that’s who.

I find it hard to understand how a Christian can ask the question 1 Peter asks and intend it as rhetorical. Christians, after all, ground their faith in the story of Jesus of Nazareth. Surely we all confess that Jesus was eager to do nothing but good. He proclaimed God’s love for the “least of these” and called all people to work to establish the kingdom of God on earth. That’s a kingdom without war. It’s a kingdom with justice for all achieved nonviolently. It is a kingdom in which everyone has enough because no one has too much. All of that’s good, right? Of course it is.

And what happened to Jesus? An occupying foreign power, Rome, arrested him, tortured him, and executed him by crucifixion, one of the most brutal, inhuman ways of killing a person the sinful mind of humankind has ever dreamt up. Jesus wanted nothing but good for all people (though his idea of what was good for the rich and powerful was certainly different from their idea of what was good for them). In his world, the Powers that were couldn’t tolerate his demands for such a radical transformation of the world they ruled. So they snuffed him out. Crucifixion is no euthanasia. A crucified person suffers, sometimes for days, before finally dying. Crucifixion wasn’t just a means of capital punishment for the Romans. It was an instrument of terror. They did it all the time, and they did it where everyone could see a condemned man (I don’t know that they ever crucified women) suffering horribly and then dying. Jesus wanted only good. Who harmed him? The Powers of the world harmed him. The Powers of the world have harmed women and men who have wanted only good innumerable times throughout human history. They still do it today.

Now, to understand what I mean here you have to understand what I mean by “the Powers.” I mean by that term what Walter Wink means by it in his book The Powers That Be,[1] and in his more scholarly books on which The Powers That Be is based.[2] For Wink, the Powers are both spiritual and physical. It is their nature as spirit that makes them hard for most people today to understand. Wink says that the Powers are “simultaneously an outer, visible structure and an inner spiritual reality.”[3] The closest Wink comes to a concise definition of the Powers is this: The Powers are “the impersonal spiritual realities at the center of institutional life.”[4] It is not hard for us to understand human institutions. We deal with them all the time. We all know about things like “corporate culture.” Institutions of all sorts have a way of being and operating that can remain largely the same though the people staffing the institution change. What for the most part we don’t understand is that all institutions have that “impersonal spiritual reality” of which Wink speaks. Those inner, impersonal, spiritual realities lie behind everything that is. They, together with their outer, physical manifestations, are the Powers.

The Powers have a reality identical in many ways with our individual personal identities. The Powers are God’s creation just as much as we people are. The dynamic of fall and redemption that we so often apply to humanity is true of the Powers too. Wink says, “The Powers are good. The Powers are fallen. The Powers must be redeemed.”[5] He believes that not only must the Powers be redeemed, he believes that they can be redeemed.

It is the Powers’ fallen nature that leads me to answer the question in 1 Peter of who will harm you if you are eager to do good. The answer is, the Powers will. Wink may be right that the Powers can and must be redeemed. The reality with which we live, however, is that the Powers are fallen. That means that they operate to assert and preserve the influence they have in human life for their own benefit not for the benefit of society or the world at large.  They certainly don’t operate for the benefit of “the least of these.” No Power acts alone. The Powers of the world act together to create what Wink calls Domination Systems. Those Systems function to preserve and assert the Powers in the world. They do not preserve and assert the Powers beneficently. They will do whatever is necessary for them to maintain and even strengthen themselves. They are, thus, responsible for all of the violence, injustice, and poverty in the world.

That is not to absolve the people who function within the institutions the Powers control of responsibility for the evil in the world. We all have a moral responsibility to work for the redemption of the Powers that Wink says can and must come. That human institutions are controlled more by their Powers than by the individuals who run them does, however, explain how people collectively can do things they would never do as individuals. A nation’s military is a good example. As individuals, very, very few of us would ever kill another human being. We might do it in self defense, but we would never do it out of anger or hatred. When we become part of our country’s military, all of that changes. People who would never kill on their own kill on orders from superior officers without compulsion. Their society, which might well execute them for killing on their own, doesn’t condemn them for doing it as soldiers. It honors them for doing it. How is that possible? The answer: The Powers. The spiritual reality, that is, the Power, behind a nation and its military control what happens in the military not the conscience of individual people. And those Powers persevere though the particular people in the military change all the time.

So why will the Powers harm you for doing good? Because your good is not good for them. Your good contradicts their evil and tries to blunt or even overturn their power. The Powers maintain their grip on society by causing people not to care about anyone but themselves. In nominally democratic countries like ours, the Powers maintain themselves in power by inducing people in their millions to vote against their own self interest. How else can we explain American voters continuing to vote for Republican candidates when the primary intent of Republican politicians is to benefit the wealthy not most of the people who vote for them? The Powers induce people to care only about paying lower taxes and not to care at all about what the lack of a meaningful social safety net means for millions of their fellow human beings. The Powers convince people to accept the absurd proposition that life begins at conception, then convince them to vote based only a candidate’s position on abortion. Or they convince people of the absurd assertion that more guns mean more safety and to become one issue voters concerned only with opposing meaningful gun regulations. The result is that the rich get their taxes slashed, environmental regulations get repealed, the budget for the military gets increased, and millions of people suffer without adequate medical care, education, housing, or any of the other things we need for life. No superficial explanation can account for this tragic reality. An explanation of the role of the Powers in producing such results can. The Powers are fallen, and they function every day to produce evil results in the world.

Combating the Powers is never as simple as merely replacing individuals. An institution’s Power perseveres and maintains itself despite changeovers in personnel. After all, the Democrats may advocate better policies than the Republicans, but they are a long way from effecting the radical transformation our country needs if it is ever to live up to its expressed ideals of freedom and true equality. They too are a long way from what is needed. They are that because of the influence of the Powers of our national government, of our national government’s inner spirituality that functions through the outer reality of political institutions and structures. Electing Democrats is better than electing Republicans, but it is nowhere near what this country really needs.

So how do we combat these and other Powers? By getting people to see that there is a spiritual reality that is every bit as real as material reality. By educating people in the spiritual reality of the Powers behind everything that is and of their influence on human life. By making people aware of the baleful consequences of their continuing to live under the Powers’ control. By convincing people that the moral thing is to care about their neighbors, including their needy and marginalized neighbors, as much as they care about themselves. By somehow getting people to operate from a broader view of what is right, to transcend the view of narrow self interest from which most people operate. By convincing people that violence is sinful regardless of the context in which it occurs. By organizing people into mass movements aimed not at accomplishing whatever a few Evangelical leaders concerned mostly with their own power say must be accomplished but at making our country truly more peaceful and just.

It isn’t easy. It will never be easy. The Powers are powerful, and they are deeply entrenched among us. They resist meaningful change with all of their spiritual power, a power that easily overcomes the worldly power that is the only kind most people assert against them. Some people, Christians and others, have been battling the fallen Powers for millennia, but those fallen Powers are still in control. Yet we must never lose hope that the Powers can be redeemed. Hope that they can become the influences for good that God intends them to be. Who will harm you if you are eager for good? The Powers will, and they will continue to do it until they are at long last redeemed. None of us alive today will live to see that goal finally accomplished. Our call, however, is to do what we can to continue the nonviolent battle against fallen Powers and for their ultimate redemption. May it be so.



[1] Wink, Walter, The Powers That Be, Theology for a New Millennium (Galilee Doubleday, New York, 1998).

[2] These are primarily Wink’s extensive, scholarly three volume series, all published by Fortress Press. They are Naming the Powers: The Language of Power in the New Testament (1984), Unmasking the Powers: The Invisible Powers That Determine Human Existence (1986), and Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (1992).

[3] Wink, The Powers That Be, p. 24.

[4] Wink, Engaging the Powers, p. 9.

[5] Id., p. 10.