The God Market

I'm not exactly an anti-trust specialist, but I found this hilarious (via Will Baude):

Judge Orders God To Break Up Into Smaller Deities

WASHINGTON, DC—Calling the theological giant’s stranglehold on the religion industry “blatantly anti-competitive,” a U.S. district judge ruled Monday that God is in violation of anti-monopoly laws and ordered Him to be broken up into several less powerful deities.

“The evidence introduced in this trial has convinced me that the deity known as God has willfully and actively thwarted competition from other deities and demigods, promoting His worship with such unfair scare tactics as threatening non-believers with eternal damnation,” wrote District Judge Charles Elliot Schofield in his decision. “In the process, He has carved out for Himself an illegal monotheopoly.”

[. . .]

To comply with federal antitrust statutes, God will be required to divide Himself into a pantheon of specialized gods, each representing a force of nature or a specific human custom, occupation, or state of mind.”There will most likely be a sun god, a moon god, sea god, and rain god,” said religion-industry watcher Catherine Bailey. “Then there will be some second-tier deities, like a god of wine, a goddess of the harvest, and perhaps a few who symbolize human love and/or blacksmithing.”
Leading theologians are applauding the God breakup, saying that it will usher in a new era of greater worshipping options, increased efficiency, and more personalized service.

“God’s prayer-response system has been plagued by massive, chronic backlogs, and many prayers have gone unanswered in the process,” said Gene Suozzi, a Phoenix-area Wiccan. “With polytheism, you pray to the deity specifically devoted to your concern. If you wish to have children, you pray to the fertility goddess. If you want to do well on an exam, you pray to the god of wisdom, and so on. This decentralization will result in more individualized service and swifter response times.”

It's an oldie -- I think this is actually playing off the Microsoft break-up decision -- but still hilarious.

A Dramatic Change

A leading Orthodox Jewish Rabbi, Avi Shafran, was given space recently in The Forward to explain his organization's take on homosexuality. The second paragraph made the following eyebrow raising claim:

Whether homosexuality is fixed or changeable remains an open question. There are well-informed people on either side of the issue, but as of yet no incontrovertible proof of a “gay gene.” Whether the Jewish religious tradition is fixed or changeable, however, is not arguable — at least not for Torah-loyal Jews.

Skate past the first part. It's the last sentence which caused my head to tilt a little. Because I would also agree that "whether the Jewish religious tradition is fixed or changeable" is rather inarguable -- I just think the obvious answer is "changeable."

Unlike many Christian sects, Judaism has classically not engaged in Biblical fundamentalism. Rather, the Tanakh is only part of the official religious doctrine governing the Jewish community. Alongside it and carrying equal weight is the Talmud, which, in brief, is a corpus of interpretations and expansions upon Biblical doctrine extending for thousands of years.* The Talmud is basically comprised of countless Rabbis giving their own interpretations on what the Torah, the Tanakh, and other Talmudic stories mean, how they should be interpreted, extended, circumscribed, or modified. It is a vast menagerie of differing opinions, and together it paints a dramatically heterodox and pluralistic picture of what Jewish tradition "says". In essence, Jewish theology was the original common law method.

Through this, it is beyond obvious that Jewish law and tradition has changed, often dramatically, over the years, and is the furthest thing from "fixed". The Talmud is chock full of disagreements, with dissenting and concurring threads diverging into a host of different "schools". Indeed, for much of Jewish history there were two separate Talmuds (Jerusalem and Babylonian). The claim that Rabbi Shafran is making here is internally contradictory -- it itself is attempting to enact a dramatic change in how we think of Jewish traditions, replacing historic fluidity with modern (and dare I say, Christian-influenced) stasis.

* This also caused me to raise an eyebrow to the phrase "Torah-loyal Jews". That, to me, sounds like it should be the motto for Karaite Judaism, but of course, most Jews aren't and have never been Karaites. The dominant thread of Judaism is not "Torah-loyal", or at least, not exclusively so. What it is loyal to is the process of an evolving understanding and uncovering of divine principles as they instantiate themselves in an infinite number of social, historical, and political contexts.

Into the Whirlwind

This book looks absolutely fascinating:

God deserves obedience simply because he’s God—or does he? Inspired by a passion for biblical as well as constitutional scholarship, in this bold exploration Yale Law Professor Robert A. Burt conceptualizes the political theory of the Hebrew and Christian Bibles. God’s authority as expressed in these accounts is not a given. It is no less inherently problematic and in need of justification than the legitimacy of secular government.

In recounting the rich narratives of key biblical figures—from Adam and Eve to Noah, Cain, Abraham, Moses, Job, and Jesus—In the Whirlwind paints a surprising picture of the ambivalent, mutually dependent relationship between God and his peoples. Taking the Hebrew and Christian Bibles as a unified whole, Burt traces God’s relationship with humanity as it evolves from complete harmony at the outset to continual struggle. In almost every case, God insists on unconditional obedience, while humanity withholds submission and holds God accountable for his promises.

Contemporary political theory aims for perfect justice. The Bible, Burt shows, does not make this assumption. Justice in the biblical account is an imperfect process grounded in human—and divine—limitation. Burt suggests that we consider the lessons of this tension as we try to negotiate the power struggles within secular governments, and also the conflicts roiling our public and private lives.

The book is Robert Burt, Into the Whirlwind: God and Humanity in Conflict (Harvard UP). Via Rick Garnett.

UPDATE: Oh, and incidentally, if an intrepid Book Review editor out there is looking for a reviewer....

Holy, Er, God

The South Jerusalem blog takes a break from commentary on Israel and Palestine to give us Rep. John Shimkus' (R-IL), er, unique perspective on global warming:



Back to SJ:

Maimonides would not have made such a ridiculous mistake had he been elected to Congress. He adduced the Talmudic principle that ha-olam ke-minhago noheg—meaning that the universe functions in accordance with the laws of nature. Even when the Messiah comes, he argued, we will see no supernatural events or miracles that violate the natural order. (One reason Maimonides and other theologians have held this position is that if the natural order must be violated for God to carry out his will, then the world is an imperfect creation—implying that God made mistakes that He needs to correct.)

So God’s promise to Noah is not that he’s made it impossible for Noah’s descendants to destroy the world. God’s message to Noah is that it’s entirely up to humankind to maintain the world. It would be apt to paraphrase Benjamin Franklin today: “A world—if you can keep it.”

Leave theology to the pros, Rep. Shimkus.

A Jewish BLT

Not Bacon-Lettuce-Tomato (that'd be impossible to make Jewish -- unless you're Reform), but Black Liberation Theology!

This NYT article on the subject (H/T: PG) brought to the fore a thought I've been having for some time. Black Liberation Theology strikes me as a significantly more "Jewish", if you will, theology than it does Christian.

Now, I'll admit only a moderate knowledge of the parameters of Christian theology. But plenty of Christians I've talked to have confessed genuine trouble with identifying BLT as a "Christian" entity. They object to its particularism, that it "takes sides" (as opposed to Christ's message of universal salvation and infinite love). They think it's too political, and this-worldly, as opposed to concentrating on faith and the world-to-come.

Both of these concerns fit far more comfortable within Judaism, which is also particularistic, and also is more concerned with the state of the human world as opposed to abstract notions of faith and the afterlife. Admittedly, Orthodox Judaism often only concerns itself with "this world" on a ritualistic level, and less so with regards to universal concerns of justice. But Judaism as a whole (including Orthodox Judaism) has developed a strong social identity around the notion of Tikkun Olam (repairing the world). Even if, as my Judaic Studies professor at Carleton argues, Tikkun Olam historically has been only a minor element of Jewish religious practice, it's certainly risen to a dominant position today.

Moreover, the Liberation Theology mantra, "God is on the side of the oppressed", also seems to my ears to ring more Jewish than Christian. In part, this is simply historical: Jews have spent more time oppressed than (White) Christians, so obviously we're going to develop theological accounts that provide sustenance in such situations. But also, as the article notes, the God of BLT tends to be that of the Hebrew Bible, the Old Testament: God standing in judgment over wrongdoers, and prophets preaching Jeremiads against evil societies. I don't believe this theme is absent in the New Testament, but my understanding is that it takes on reduced significance.

In part, this affinity (brother-sufferers) has been used to explain the disproportionate presence of Jews (religious and not) in the Civil Rights movement. But BLT came to the fore with the Black Power movement -- an event which, at the very least, stressed the Black/Jewish bond. Perhaps one way to repair the rift would be for Black Liberation Theorists and their Jewish counterparts to explore connections and commonalities regarding how they view the world. Orthodox Christianity has not exactly been the most welcoming home for liberation theology. Maybe Judaism can be (and learn something about ourselves in the process).

Bible Beater

I'm taking a class this term that involves a close reading of a variety of famous stories in the Tanakh (Jewish Bible). A hint to religious people out there: if you want to stay religious, don't read the Bible -- or at least, for the love of God (heh) don't read it with anything close to a moral eye. The characters are not nice people. Just today we read three(!) stories where various patriarchs offered up their wives (posing them as their sisters) to certain powerful men in order to keep themselves physically safe (how noble). Then God threatened said powerful men for sleeping with another man's wife, and in penance the men then pay off the patriarchs with all sorts of neat parting gifts. It's a neat scam: if it works, massive amount of newly-gained wealth, and if doesn't, well, it's only a woman getting raped, so, no biggie. Meanwhile, one of Noah's sons accidentally sees him naked (after he got drunk and passed out in his tent), so Noah, displaying the sort of temperance and judgment that made him "the only righteous man of his generation," sentences the son and all of his progeny to be slaves forever. Nice. Elsewhere, God commands Joshua to commit vicious, merciless genocide against the people of Canaan. And in general, God kind of comes off as a jealous, fearful, hot-tempered, spoiled brat.

So, yeah. Message of the Bible: All the stories of your youth valorizing these characters are total and utter crock. Read at your own peril.

Whereto for the Conservative Jew

I wish I could write more on this, but the thought spigot is blocked up. So I'll just point out this excellent mini-symposium on the future of the Conservative Jewish movement. Oddly enough, my favorite piece is the first one, by Rabbi David Wolpe:

Covenantal Judaism. That is our philosophy and should be our name. Renaming heralds our rejuvenation. We believe in an ongoing dialogue with God. Not everything significant has already been said, nor is the modern world uniquely wise. Our task goes beyond mere clarification of the old or reflexive reverence for the new. As with a friendship, we cherish the past but are not limited to its formulations or assumptions. Venerating the teachings of Maimonides does not negate that tomorrow, with the tools of modern study, a new Rambam may arise. The Judaism of relationship. Covenantal Judaism. Such is our creed, our dogma, our gift.

Covenantal Judaism holds aloft the ideal of dialogue with God, with other Jews of all movements, and with the non-Jewish world. In holding each of these as sacred we stand in a unique position in Jewish life. Ritual is language, part of the way we speak to other Jews and to God. Learning, ancient and modern, is essential to sustain the eternal dialogue. “I have been given the power,” said the Kotzker Rebbe, “to resurrect the dead. But I choose a harder task — to resurrect the living!” Resurrection of passion, of faith, of community requires not the touch of the Divine, but the touch of another human being.

Together we stand at the mountain and receive the Torah. We dare not permit it to turn into a fossilized faith or a sacrifice to the seductions of modernity. The Zohar teaches that we are children from the chamber of yearnings. All of Judaism is part of our conversation. Brit, covenant, holds together our history and our destiny.

The language is far too flowery for my taste, but the ideas are good. "Covenantal Judaism", in addition to redressing the annoying ambiguity wherein I have to explain that, no, I'm politically liberal, "Conservative" is just a denominational reference, seems to cohere rather well to what I imagine Conservative Judaism to mean. I'm not Orthodox because, as Wolpe says, I feel that it has "fossilized faith", but I'm not Reform because I feel many Reform Jews don't see the religion as having anything guidance over how they conduct their affairs or their overall moral perspective. The voice of the tradition does matter to me, although it is not overriding, and the idea of me being in dialogue with the divine, the Jewish community, and the world appeals to me and seems to account for my desire to stay immersed in Judaism even as I continually refine and redefine it.

For Love or Country

Mark Olson has continued his discussion of patriotism and repentance, and the way that citizens should balance between the two. He uses me as an example of people who can never stop to just unabashedly praise their country. Mark offers a comparison to the Orthodox Church:

As far as refusing to ever express unabashed patriotism, as Mr Schraub claims he must do, while I think such sentiments are necessary, I don’t think they need to flavor all national events and days. In fact, I think going that far is an error. Taking the analogy with the very penitential nature of the Eastern Orthodox church, a penitential attitude and repentance flavors most of the year. However, it is set aside for the Paschal celebration, indeed for the 5 weeks of Pascha, prostration and kneeling is forbidden. There is a time for repentance. But it is not … all the time.

Perhaps, though I assumed the pain in my knee was from a tennis injury, not too much time spent in "prostration and kneeling." There is a serious question here, about the right way to incorporate repentance into civic life. But I'm not convinced the balance I've struck is an inherently bad one. And it is a balance. If you search through my archives, you'll see many, many posts that refer to and take seriously the many admirable elements of our country: traditions of freedom, democratic norms, egalitarianism. What troubles Mark, I suspect, is that very often these references come in the form of critiques that we are not living up to them. When we lock up innocent men (and sometimes children) without trial or hearing, we are betraying the principle of freedom. When we engage in naked voter suppression schemes, or treat some of our tax-paying citizens (in D.C.) as a colony on the Potomac, we do violence to the tradition of democracy. And of course, when we continue to support devastating structures of racism, sexism, heterosexism, and inequality of opportunity, we make a mockery of the egalitarian strain of American thought that we claim to adhere to.

When I make such a claim, what am I doing? If I thought of America as irredeemably fallen, it wouldn't make sense to make reference to these supposed histories of liberty, democracy, etc.. What purpose would they serve? Why would I assume they would have any hold on the polity, or would carry and persuasive authority? By virtue of the fact that I make the appeal, I am inherently taking seriously the meaning of weight of the ethical principles and traditions I appeal to. This, then, is the distinction between my way of expressing pride in country and Mark's. Mark wishes to keep our penance and our pride separate. There is a time for one, and a time for the other, but we need and should not demand that all be present at all times. My formulation is the precise opposite. Yes, the critique and the repentance will never leave our discourse--we cannot flee our sins. But at the same time, this critical outlook comes within the context of giving serious weight and respect to the positive aspects of American life we wish to celebrate. The critique only makes sense within the context of a political tradition that would be responsive to it. The fact that I have politically comprehensible language for expressing moral wrongs is the tribute.

This view sees America as an antinomy--a set of irreconcilable rational opposites. Undeniably, we have a history of racism in this country--one that inflects everything we do and every policy we enact. Equally true is that we have a political language of equality in our nation--from the abolitionists to the Reconstruction Amendments to the Civil Rights Act. A great deal of American political work has been focused around reconciling these two opposites. It is amazing, if you read contemporary texts, how much effort the Jim Crow South put into trying to call its racial state of affairs liberal, egalitarian, fair, and in accordance with the mandates of law. Even in the depths of Jim Crow, White southerners weren't willing to completely cut themselves off from the language of a liberal, equal state. And even at the height of the civil rights revolution, the we also saw savage race riots around the country. What this shows us is that--even in our darkest (and lightest) hours--both sides of the dualism have pull on us. I am opposed to Mark's regime of separation because it seems to severely mistake the relationship of America's sins to its virtues. Neither makes sense without reference to the other. The many acts of violence and injustice, past and present, we have committed as part and parcel of our culture circumscribes whatever tradition of liberty, equality, and democracy we may possess. But the very idea of a critique against these injustices is framed by a cultural scaffolding that allows these critiques to extend beyond their provincial borders and have real weight in the hearts and minds of the dominant caste.

This, in sum, is why I have trouble ultimately wrapping my head around Mark's paradigm. I guess I can see its appeal--it is certainly more fun to be able to celebrate one's history untainted and unblemished by remembrance of our sins. But ultimately, it lacks coherency. Fredrick Douglass famously asked "What to the Negro is the 4th of July?" If we adopt Mark's position, how do we answer him? Do we demand his silence, so as to not ruin the festivities? Do we tell him that he should be thankful, too, and that he should suppress the persistent nagging feeling that our freedom was bought at the expense of his slavery? If Douglass himself adopted those stances on his own, maybe I wouldn't have a problem. But if he feels compelled to ask, then we, I feel, are obligated to give an answer that takes seriously his implicit indictment. And I suspect (without proof), at the end of the day, that you will find more instances in my archives where I cite the virtues of America as constitutive, serious, ongoing facets of our social existence than Mark cites the sins of America in the same manner (as constitutive, serious and ongoing facets of America's social existence).

So where does this all leave us? In contrast to Mark's invocation of the Orthodox model, I will forward a Christian theologian of my own: Dietrich Bonhoeffer's notion of "cheap grace" and "costly grace."

Cheap grace...amounts to the justification of sin without the justification of the repentant sinner who departs from sin and from whom sins departs.

Cheap grace is not the kind of forgiveness of sin which frees us from the toils of sin. Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession.
[...]
Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will gladly go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble, it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him.

Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must the asked for, the door at which a man must knock.

Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner.

Though Bonhoeffer's argument is decidedly Christian, I think it has salience beyond that. It is obviously difficult--Bonhoeffer died in Nazi concentration camps for vocally opposing the Holocaust. Maybe we can't all be Bonhoeffer--though if we aren't willing to make the sacrifices necessary to truly account for our unjust advantages and privileges, than I don't think we can turn around and claim absolution. But in general, when the question is sin, I'm not sure my political or moral obligation is to make life easy for the sinners. For sins this deep, grace doesn't come from merely saying "I'm sorry." It comes from word and deed, it is most certainly a "gift" and it must be "asked for", and it is up to the wronged to determine what and how the sinner must pay restitution. America's sins are such that we need costly grace, America's virtues are such that there are concepts, language, ideas, and precepts which can bridge the victimized with their victimizers and allow grace to be achieved.