Month: June 2013

Joseph W.H. Lough

Revised Common Lectionary: First Psalm: Ps. 50; OT: Deut. 16:18-20,17:14-20

As everyone knows, the books of the Hebrew Sacred Text took shape out of an oral tradition that drew upon the experience over time of innumerable Semitic communities. Among these communities it is clear animal sacrifice was practiced. Of course, the very idea that God might demand an animal sacrifice, much less derive pleasure from it, justifiably offends all of us. And were the Hebrew Sacred Text a “religious” or “spiritual” book – a guide for private enlightenment and personal edification – you can bet that its editors would eventually have redacted those among its passages (such as those about animal sacrifice) that bring offense.

(Happily, however, although the Bible contains passages that I find enlightening and edifying, that is not its “purpose.” Indeed, that is as it should be. For unlike a coherent, comprehensive, integrated spiritual guide, the Bible (all 73 distinct writings together) has no purpose. And it has no purpose not only because each distinct writing has its own purpose, but because, insofar as many different communities have brought themselves into relationship with these seventy-three “books,” the “purpose” of these writings has everything to do with the relationship these communities bear to the books that they are reading. Communication is never a monologue. So, while there would be nothing so foreign to the biblical text than to reduce its meaning to my own isolated, individual relationship to the text, the text’s meaning never exists apart from that relationship.)

And so we find, unexpurgated, unredacted, and unapologetically animal sacrifice in our text.

What I would like to suggest is that today’s readings go straight to the heart of the Roberts Court and to its ruling on Citizens United.

How? Well, let us consider whether I (or you) want to embrace a God that accepts and enjoys or needs animal sacrifice. The psalmist would appear to be of two minds. On the one hand, the psalmist begins (vv. 1-6):

“Gather to me my faithful ones,
who made a covenant with me by sacrifice!”
The heavens declare his righteousness,
for God himself is judge! Selah

 

Sacrifice: good. But then we come to verses 12-15:

“If I were hungry, I would not tell you,

for the world and its fullness are mine.

Do I eat the flesh of bulls
or drink the blood of goats?
Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving,
and perform your vows to the Most High,
and call upon me in the day of trouble;
I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.”

Come again? Sacrifice good? No, sacrifice bad.

My best guess is that vv. 1-6 form the liturgical reading, while vv. 7-23 are the Midrash. But that’s speculation.

The question is how might the demand for (or prohibition against) animal sacrifice be related to the central theme of the text, i.e., the cause of the righteous?

In purely formal, legal, terms, the psalmist makes clear that animal sacrifice acts as surety for the agreement concluded between two parties, in this case God and God’s faithful covenant partners. Then begins the Midrash: how has this covenant worked for God? Answer: not well. And it has not worked well because the faithful covenant partners have mistaken performance of the sacrifice for fulfillment of the covenant itself. In effect, they have mistaken the easy road, the road of  ritual form, for the hard road of practical performance.

But, so long as we observe the outward ritual form, isn’t that enough? It’s better than not performing the ritual at all.

Well, no, its not and here’s why. Do you really in a God Who wants or needs this ritual form? The psalmist is quite clear. God already possesses everything. Everything is God’s. So, what is it that you are adding to . . . every thing. The answer is no thing. I add nothing to what God already has.

Not for your sacrifices do I rebuke you;
your burnt offerings are continually before me.
I will not accept a bull from your house
or goats from your folds.
For every beast of the forest is mine,
the cattle on a thousand hills.
I know all the birds of the hills,
and all that moves in the field is mine.

So, what is it that you add to this? No thing. But this is not to suggest that God wants nothing. God wants some thing. The question is what thing does God want?

Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving,
and perform your vows to the Most High,
and call upon me in the day of trouble;
I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.”

God wants us to give thanks. For what? Well, for every thing. Since every thing is already God’s, every thing that you have is a brocho (ברכה), a blessing.

So, why is this significant? It is significant because absent this insight we may be inclined to imagine that God is in need of some thing, that God is lacking some thing, or that God is a kind of Being Who wants some thing. Of course, God does want some thing. God wants us, not the animal, but us.

Ok. Why? So that God can deliver us, that’s why. (And God knows we need delivering.) But, how does that happen? It happens when we stop treating our action as a self-contained ritual performance and when we begin understanding our actions as the vehicles through which God is emancipating us. To be quite clear, we are the agents of our own emancipation; it is through our acts of justice, truth, mercy, and love that we are emancipated.

This is why the “wicked” (vv. 16-22) do not inherit salvation; because they do not perform what is good.

The message of the Deuteronomist is not dissimilar. The Deuteronomist imagines a time – perhaps he is already living in or after such a time – when priests and kings will govern God’s people. And we all know what that means. It means that someone will claim that because he or she has a special relationship with God – a relationship that others do not enjoy – the people should give him or her more power and more things; perhaps in exchange for more divine blessing.

“You shall appoint judges and officers in all your towns that the Lord your God is giving you, according to your tribes, and they shall judge the people with righteous judgment. You shall not pervert justice. You shall not show partiality, and you shall not accept a bribe, for a bribe blinds the eyes of the wise and subverts the cause of the righteous. Justice, and only justice, you shall follow, that you may live and inherit the land that the Lord your God is giving you.”

Here is the problem. If God blesses me because I give God some thing, then how are my actions in any way connected to emancipatory outcomes? Or, stated differently, if mere ritual performance earns me divine favor – redemption – then what relationship does this ritual performance bear to truly emancipatory deeds?

The same is true of political or religious leaders, judges and kings. If they treat me well, if they decide in my favor or pass laws that favor me simply because I have given them a ritual offering – a bribe – then there is no material relationship between this offering and the goodness that arises out of it. My performance bears no constitutive relationship to the outcome, but only a formal ritual relationship. The bribe makes the judge happy and the judge makes me happy. But, in fact, the judge is rendered less capable of weighing the relative merits of my actual deeds. “A bribe blinds the eyes of the wise and subverts the cause of the righteous.”

But the Deuteronomist goes further. There was a time, the Deuteronomist reminds them, when you lived under empire. And when you lived under empire, the rulers of that empire used their office as a means to take pleasure from others and enrich themselves. Well, says the Deuteronomist, there will come a day when you also have rulers. “Only he must not acquire many horses for himself or cause the people to return to Egypt in order to acquire many horses, since the Lord has said to you, ‘You shall never return that way again.’ And he shall not acquire many wives for himself, lest his heart turn away, nor shall he acquire for himself excessive silver and gold.”

In the way that the Deuteronomist is thinking about this, when a ruler acquires things, or when she or he uses her or his office to obtain pleasure or power or wealth from others, that ruler has fallen for the ways of Egypt, of oppression, of bondage, of slavery. Yet, it is vital for us to draw the connection here: this is the way back to Egypt because it severs the necessary relationship between emancipatory action and ritual performance. The imperial ruler is a ruler; therefore she or he imposes her or his power on others. If I fail to perform the ritual requirement – offering my body or my wealth – to the imperial ruler, then I will be judged harshly. Therefore, I will fulfill the ritual requirement; I will give the ruler riches or horses or even my own body.

This, says the Deuteronomist, is not justice. It perverts justice. Only when the relationship between ritual performance and emancipatory action is transparent, only then is justice served.

And, so, Justice Roberts: how is your Citizens United ruling standing up?

Joseph W.H. Lough

Today’s Daily Lectionary (Morning Prayer): First Psalm Ps. 119:49-72; Old Testament Deut. 13:1-11

Why can’t we have a clean, crisp, antiseptic, hypoallergenic, meditative, calming religious text? I want to write my own Bible.

We have written our own Bible. That’s the Good News. But, that’s also the bad news.

In today’s readings, the psalmist is dead set upon resting completely on God‘s “promises,” God’s “word.” For, the psalmist is certain that relying upon God’s promises, observing God’s statutes, and being surrounded by others who do likewise is a blessing. So far, so good.

And then we get to Deuteronomy and the stones begin to fly.

Let’s say we happen upon a dreamer or a prophet who tells us things that are actually true or that turn our to be true with uncanny predictability. And, let’s say that this dreamer or prophet tells us, “Look. I don’t know what you believed before or why you believed what you believed. But this is some pretty darn solid empirical data I’m placing before you. So, why don’t you forget about everything you’ve known or believed up until now and follow my gods, my truths, my way.”

Here’s what the Deuteronomist says: “But that prophet or that dreamer of dreams shall be put to death, because he has taught rebellion against the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt and redeemed you out of the house of slavery, to make you leave the way in which the Lord your God commanded you to walk. So you shall purge the evil1 from your midst.” Woe. That’s a little harsh.

But it gets better because you might be thinking: “Ok. So the Deuteronomist doesn’t want me to abandon my wife, children, husband, brothers and sisters to follow some lunatic. This is really a passage about keeping the family intact. Right?”

Wrong. “If your brother, the son of your mother, or your son or your daughter or the wife you embrace or your friend who is as your own soul entices you secretly, saying, ‘Let us go and serve other gods,’ which neither you nor your fathers have known, 7 some bof the gods of the peoples who are around you, whether near you or far off from you, from the one end of the earth to the other, 8 you shall not yield to him or listen to him, nor shall your eye pity him, nor shall you spare him, nor shall you conceal him. 9 But you shall kill him.”

Ouch. So, its not about keeping the family intact. That’s brutal.

So, how are we supposed to process passages like this; passages that seem on their face to be so contrary to good sense and good judgment?

What or Who is God? Is God the brilliant seer who with uncanny accuracy or insight correctly interprets events and even predicts events accurately 100% of the time? (“Hey. Sorry about the Flood. My bad.”) Evidently not. Well, then, is God my people, my clan, my family, my parents or grandparents, or children, or brothers and sisters, my community – right or wrong – I don’t care? No, evidently not.

So, what or Who is God? God is the One Who promises and fulfills not any old promises never mind their content, but highly specific promises concerning justice, life, emancipation, redemption, and faithfulness. And, when the God we hear and follow is not this One, we and everyone who relies upon us go astray, with terrible and terrifying consequences.

To be sure, neither the psalmist nor the Deuteronomist is suggesting that when we listen to and follow this God all will be well. Its not that simple or simplistic. There are some shamans, some interpreters, some critics who are extremely good at what they do. They are very accurate in their predictions. They may even provide really good insights into how we can stay healthy, eat right, live long, and live well. They might be very good people, these dreamers or prophets.

You might even be healthier, more fit, more knowledgeable, more friendly, calm, and peaceful doing as they tell you.

But, in effect, what they are asking you to do is an extremely selfish, self-centered thing. They are asking you to ground your most basic posture toward others and toward the world on a data-point that extends no further than your nose. And, of course, we all know not only that our noses differ from one another, but that, as we move from one place to another, so too do our noses.

What the psalmist and Deuteronomist are inviting us to consider is that there is something more reliable, more secure, more trustworthy, more faithful and good and true than the words or predictions of any dreamer or prophet who chances to pass along.

All of us want health and life and truth. What the psalmist and Deuteronomist are reminding us is that health and life and truth cannot be obtained in a moment, in one place, at one time, in one experience, in one insight, in one practice, in one truth, or in one display of power or light. Health and life and truth appear over the course of generations, centuries, and millennia.

So, if some dreamer or prophet passes by with a really good insight, thank them for their trouble. It may be a really good insight. But, if they then invite you to abandon the insights of generations, centuries, and millennia in exchange for their insight; run the other way because they are selfish, self-centered bastards who are incapable of seeing beyond the tip of their noses.

That’s the first point. The second point is this. We ourselves are those selfish, self-centered bastards; maybe not yet, but we will be. We all see through a glass darkly. None of us yet sees face to face. So it was with the Deuteronomist who counselled us to stone those who ask us to abandon our faith.

Stone them? Really? No doubt, the Deuteronomist felt quite strongly and secure in his or her belief that stoning was the right course of action. It wasn’t. It was instead short-sighted and, in its own way, quite selfish and self-centered.

Which is why I am quite certain that my own insights (should they survive more than a day following my death) will strike those who come after me as narrow and self-centered; which of course they are.

So, how do we step outside of this narrowness? How do we get beyond our noses? How do we escape the barrage of stones?

Your statutes have been my songs
in the house of my sojourning.
I remember your name in the night, O Lord,
and keep your law.
This blessing has fallen to me,
that I have kept your precepts. (Psalm 119:54-56, ESV)

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Joseph W.H. Lough

Last week an unnamed individual, whom I will call “my mother” because – well – she is my mother, sent me a clipping from the New York Times, an article by David Leonhardt titled “Who Will Crack the Code?”

In her impeccably neat handwriting “my mother” appended a note, “Please Explain.”

The gist of the article is that tax law in general and corporate tax law in particular in the US is highly irrational, rewarding companies with saavy CEOs or easily transportable (or concealable) products with low tax rates and punishing companies who have neither. If I have an intangible asset, such as a string of software code, why not “house” it in the Cayman Islands, or (Mr. Leonhardt’s example) if I make soft drinks why not manufacture them in places like Ireland or Singapore that offer corporations an attractive tax rate?

All bluster and finger-pointing aside, US corporations (or international corporations with a principle US interest) behave the way they do because the US Congress has told them that its OK. Thus Apple’s 14% tax rate. All Congress would have to do to change that rate would be to close the “loopholes” that invite Apple’s tax attorneys and accountants to take advantage of them. In a moment, I want to tease apart this little word “loophole.”

Ok, “Mom.” Be patient. I’m getting to the point.

Corporations are private entities; in Greek we would call them oikonomia, that is to say “private enterprises.” Oikos is the Greek word for home. So, if you want to know why the issue of taxes is so contentious, the reason is that no one likes it when their home is broken into and its contents pillaged. And this is the reason that private enterprises do not like taxes. Period.

And, yet, as we all know, corporations or incorporated by public entities; in Greek we would call these entities politeia, in Latin res publica. That is to say, in order for any entity to legally engage in private enterprise ­– which entails connecting private households to one another in some manner – they must first present themselves before the politeia, the res publica or Republic, and show how and why their incorporation benefits not only the two or more private households, but also the politeia that their transactions will undoubtedly influence.

Optimally, those granting incorporation have no vested interest in the outcome; that is to say, their overriding interest is in res publica, in the Republic, or “the wealth we hold in common.” If it turns out that incorporation provides an unmitigated benefit to all members of the community, then it may be that communities will compete in order to attract and incorporate a private entity. If, on the other hand, an entity’s incorporation will exact some cost – let us say polution – then the community will only permit incorporation when that private entity pays the community at least as much as it will cost the community. But it will be up to the public – res publica, politeia – to judge, one way or the other, what precisely the costs and benefits might be before they permit a private entity to incorporate.

But “costs and benefits” are not one thing and not another. A corporation might polute, but it also might provide employment. It might clog roads and attract unwanted visitors, but it also might produce goods or services of value to the community.

And this means that when the public weighs whether it will allow a private entity to incorporate, it invariably also thinks about incentives and deterrents; and it is precisley here that loopholes come into the picture.

Let’s say my community has an across-the-board “flat tax” on all private enterprise; but let us say that unemployment has been rising and there is a possibility that we can attract a significant private employer. But let us also say that among the considerations that will help that private employer decide where it will locate is the local tax rate. Will my community be willing to make an exception to its “flat tax” policy in order to attract this employer? Loophole.

Or, let’s say that several corporations are competing to relocate in my community, but that my community has decided that it will favor private enterprises that make use of new technologies that give off less polutants; or let us say that I promise a lower tax rate to private entities that adopt new “clean” technologies. Loophole.

Or, let’s say I am concerned that none of the members of my community enjoy the skill-sets called for in a company that I am thinking of granting incorporation to, but that I might be willing to grant them incorporation if they implement a job-training program linked to the local community college. Loophole.

Tax codes are complicated because they provide one of the most efficient means for enacting incentives and disincentives.

Ok, “Mom.” I’m getting there.

Now, there are some folks who are sworn enemies of res publica, of the wealth we hold in common. They do not believe in the public or common wealth. They do believe in politeia. They believe only in oikonomia. These folks think that the question surround tax reform is bogus from the beginning because it presumes that: (1) public entitites should have the authority to grant or deny the incorporation of private entities;  (2)  public entities have the authority to tax (or reward) private entities depending on their public policy interests; and (3) public entities have the authority to craft corporate law to meet public aims.

Since in their view all three of these presumptions are illegitmate, there are some folks who simply want to get rid of taxes – or, in any case, federal taxes – Period.

(As I have pointed out elsewhere, these folks are antirepublicans, enemies of the Republic, hostile to the US Constitution, in particular, and to the modern western political tradition in general. This group lost in 1783. They lost again in 1865. They lost during the New Deal and again in 1964 and 1965 when the Civil Rights and Voting Rights acts passed Congress.)

There are others, however, who evidently believe that men and women who accept millions of dollars in bribes from private entities are nevertheless able to reform a tax code that will genuinely serve the public interest rather than the interests of the private entities from whom they accept these bribes.

I don’t buy it. Yes, there ought to be a balance between the interests of private enterprise and the public. Traditionally, however, the judge of where that balance ought to fall was the public. The public should decide how to balance jobs against polution, private commodities and markets against public health and security. And the public should be able to make these decisions without the interference of those who have a private stake in the outcome. That is to say, the judge should not be on the payroll of the private enterprise.

Under present conditions, not only is US Congress weighed down by a class of congressmen and women who are, to put it lightly, constitutionally tone-deaf, but their decisions are further freighted by millions of dollars in campaign donations – “free speech” our constiuttionally tone-deaf Supreme Court calls them – that virtually guarantee that, no matter what the outcome, it will not be in the interest of the common wealth, but, rather, in the interest of private wealth.

Should the tax code be reformed? Absolutely. Should it be reformed by men and women who are on the payroll of the very parties they are being asked to regulate? Absolutely not.

Before we crack the tax code we must break Congresses dependence on private money, once and for all. Only then can we expect a tax code – loopholes and all – that truly reflects the interests of the Republic.

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Joseph W.H. Lough

The current revolt in Turkey points up the serious deficiencies underlying nearly all of our most popular measures showing where and how individuals will express dissatisfaction with their overall condition. When over the weekend I scrambled to my standard indices, I found the following:

In the Happy Planet Index, Turkey ranks 45th, certainly not great, but still with a preponderance of countries ranked below it.

On the Human Development Index, developed by Amartya Sen and Mahbub-ul-Haq,Turkey ranks 90th, perhaps offering a more accurate read of human discontent. When adjusted for inequality, Turkey does slightly better, at 66th. In either case, however, Turkey’s ranking begs the question: why aren’t countries ranked below Turkey expressing open discontent against their conditions?

Usually at this point I can rely upon the nineteenth century German economic theorist GWF Hegel to help me out. According to Hegel, we should anticipate that levels of educational achievement and institutional integration will shape levels of discontent. The higher the level of educational achievement, the greater the likelihood that an individual will register discontent at substantive inequality. This discontent, however, will be mitigated by institutional integration.

So, how does educational achievement stand among the Turks? It turns out that Turks rank relatively poorly, 90th, on the index of expected years of schooling. Again, there is nothing in the data that jumps out at us.

Finally, although it is a very difficult measure, we might consider institutional integration. Here, as we might expect, Turks do not play a central role in making decisions in their country. The Economist Democracy Index ranks Turkey 88th. (And, lest you think this is an entirely biased metric, take note that the US ranks 21st, behind such countries as South Korea and the Czech Republic in the Economist’s rankings.)

So, why are the Turk’s revolting?

Oddly, the first image that popped into my mind when I asked myself this question was John McCain, who in February 2011 characterized the first hints of the Arab Spring as a dangerous “virus” that held the potential of spreading out of control and infecting many more nations in the region. McCain’s remarks popped into my head for a couple of reasons. First, at the time, it was clear that what Senator McCain most feared was – well – the spread of economic justice and democracy; always bad signs for global economic stability and growth. But, second, I am also thinking of Senator McCain’s eagerness to supply guns to the Sunni opposition in Syria, almost from the beginning, since Asad’s mostly Shi’a minority ruling elite is in bed with Hezbollah; and, well, I’ll let you fill in the blanks. (Oh, by the way, Iran is predominantly Shi’a; Iraq was ruled by the Sunni, before the occupation forces installed a Shi’a led government, which is sympathetic with Iran and . . . Never mind.)

But, that brings me to my third and final point. What if our focus on individual nations at this point is misguided? What if instead we should be looking at the overall global shift in wealth, the shift away from public institutions and public regulations that aim at delivering greater overall substantive equality – in education, health, housing, institutional participation, and movement both within and across state lines?

Was McCain right? Although for all of the wrong reasons?

According to this theory, rather than focusing individually on levels of educational achievement, inequality, institutional integration, and “happiness” within nations, we should instead be looking at the overall aggregate shifts among nations, from public to private, from periphery to core. We should then anticipate that as the global economy contracts and reorganizes, along increasingly neoliberal, post-fordist, lines, bodies of individuals will respond to this reorganization in ways that are informed by local and regional information and practice; but also constrained and channeled by local and regional resources – such as the Turkish state‘s impressive array of military personnel and equipment, much of it supplied by the US.

Yes, like a “virus.” McCain was in earnest about the spread of this virus not out of any particular love for or hatred of individuals along the north African Mediterranean or Arab Penninsula, because because he feared (perhaps rightly) that economic and political democracy might ship-wreck and reverse neoliberal, post-fordist policy trends.

At what point do investors cry “Uncle”? At what point do they realize that their neoliberal policies, even backed by massive police and military powers, stand a chance to cost them much more in returns on investment than ever so slight adjustments in the other direction? Clearly the virus needs to be contained.

Do we wait until it bleeds into Greece and Italy, Spain and Portugal? Do we wait for China to begin showing signs of weakness, provoking China to withdraw (or defend) its investments in South America and Africa?

What if “talking Turkey” means talking about the global distribution of wealth and about its increasingly private, unregulated circuitry about the globe?

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Today’s readings – 1 Kings 18:20-30, Galatians 1:1-12, and Luke 7:1-10 – could suggest that their authors are inviting us to believe in magic. Elijah sets up a magical test to distinguish between his God and Baal; the Apostle Paul wants his readers to believe that his good news differs from the good news the Galatians are inclined to embrace over his gospel, and the author of Luke-Acts appears to be inviting us to believe in Jesus because he can perform long-distance healings.

So is that what its all about? Is that what it means to believe? If so, then the prophets of Baal were formally correct, irrespective of the success or failure of their magic.

Another alternative, which has enjoyed widespread popularity over the centuries, is to suggest that we should anticipate no relationship whatsoever between the object of our faith and the ability of this object to transform our world. Indeed, when they reduced the Christian faith to the transcendental point of faith, Protestants in effect proclaimed that they had no expectation whatsoever that their God would effect any change at all in the phenomenal world, limiting God’s action to transforming hearts and ethical orientations, not real events in the real world. Insofar as both Elijah and the prophets of Baal — at Elijah’s initiative — put God to the test, each violates a central tenet of Protestantism (and perhaps of Abrahamic religion as a whole).

But, what if this is not what God is inviting us to find in these passages. What if instead we are invited to find in them reasons to anticipate and in fact act in the face of inconceivable odds against us. It is Elijah whose faith brings him to observe that it really doesn’t matter how deep the ditch or how much water we throw on the sacrificial offering. It is Elijah who observes that he is outnumbered 450 to 1. Many of us might be inclined to abandon faith under such conditions. We might also feel, as many in Jesus’ day (or in Luke’s) must have felt, the the healing of the Centurion’s slave depended on some kind of an apparatus or technology, an immediate, direct transmission of magical energy from Jesus’ hand to the Centurion’s ill servant. Is Jesus able to heal a Roman-allied Centurion, never mind his servant, no matter how much he has donated to the development fund? What should we expect as we move out into the Roman-dominated world in the 80s and 90s? Can God heal these people? Can God transform empire? Or, finally, what if the ascetic (and by inference proto-Protestant) gnostic gospel to which Galatia’s “spiritual” Christians were inclined is not good news at all, precisely because it diverts our attention away from the body, away from real service, away from transformative grace?

The question, therefore, is quite clearly not “Do you expect magic?” but rather “What are the miracles that you expect?” If you want magic, you are looking in the wrong place. There is a God capable of bringing down whole oppressive empires, of healing not only Roman Centurions, but their slaves, and who is inviting us to abandon our cosy, ascetic, quasi-spiritual, mystery cults and embrace the living God.

The invitation is addressed to us. Do we expect radical transformation, real transformation, in the real world? Are we ready to make such transformation a test of faith? Are we ready to act on the basis of this transformation? Or are we going to appeal to the comfort of numbers, 450 to 1, or to personal security and inner comfort, the gnostic gospel? Do we believe that the Roman Centurion can be healed? And his servant?

What do you believe?

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