Reading notes

This bears repeating as many times as necessary:

The possibility of democracy in Iraq must not eclipse the tragedy of American lives lost and Iraqis sacrificed in a reckless and needless military venture based on falsehood. None of the Iraqi dead will benefit from a democratic government, nor were they patriots in a struggle for freedom. They were reduced to collateral damage in a war a foreign power decided was needed to eliminate their evil leader.

If a mass murderer was spotted in a huge apartment building filled with innocent men, women and children, the police would never blow up the building in order to capture the culprit. Yet that is precisely what we did in Iraq by destroying a nation and thousands of innocent people of all ages. Couldn’t the world’s oldest representative democracy come up with a more intelligent and moral strategy than shock and awe (blitzkrieg works better)? Is that what a Christian nation does?

If bin Laden is labeled a Muslim heretic, certainly George Bush must exemplify a failed Christianity and compromised democracy.

Thank you, Ron and Norma, for your eloquent imagery.

[via Melanie]

Lorraine transcribes journalist Seymour Hersh as saying —

This [Iraq] war is a strategic mistake. We have made enemies for life. There will be revenge against us for life. [The revenge will be carried down through five generations. That’s how long they’ll seek revenge.] We are creating Al Quaida.

This grim outcome has been wide open for all to see, for those who have eyes to see, since Day One. Millions of people saw and warned us, loudly. It’s never too late to see: this is not rocket science. It’s sowing and reaping. It’s a cost not counted.

Forgiveness of those in power in the U.S. who have done this is a tough nut to crack. On the one hand, I know forgiveness is necessary lest I poison myself by withholding it. If the damage were constrained to this generation, a distant maybe. But OTOH they’ve afflicted not just us, but our children and grandchildren! — with both the costs of this mistake (direct- and opportunity costs of war, mushrooming national debt) and the consequences of this mistake, a generational curse of vengeance and terror.

(“Welcome to the world, kid. Here’s your credit card with a $26K balance due and oh yeah, there’s a price on your head.”)

What’s it called when someone sets your kids’ house on fire, then leaves town to avoid the financial- and life-and-death consequences?

Jeffrey has influenced me to look deeper into Anabaptist thought, something I’ve never taken the time to do before.

Today I read article Faith, Church and Nation: An Anabaptist Perspective by Stuart Murray Williams, and it’s like an espresso surge of awakening for me —

What theological and ethical principles should inform a post-Christendom vision for the political order?

• Understanding the state as one of the ‘principalities and powers’, created for human well-being, fallen and prone to idolatry and self-aggrandisement, but capable of at least partial redemption.

• Recognising the state is only one such power — although it often claims greater significance. What it can achieve is limited, because of its own inadequacies and the influence of other (economic, social, cultural and political) powers.

• A principled commitment to the freedom of the church from the state and the state from the church, liberating both to fulfil their divine vocations and interact with each other in diverse and creative ways.

• A hermeneutic of justice, rather than order, that prioritises the powerless and poor, and a vision of shalom that inspires multi-faceted goals and action.

• Insisting Christians owe primary allegiance to God’s kingdom and the global church community (and have obligations to our planet and global human community). National interest and party loyalty, though valid, are secondary. If Jesus is Lord, Caesar’s authority is limited.

• Suspicion of top-down notions of political engagement and confidence in the subversive and creative potential of prophetic truth-telling and grass-roots action. We may decide involvement in education, the arts, the media, business, industry, local government, symbolic protests or civil disobedience will have greater potential for effecting lasting change.

• Rejecting the philosophy that ‘the end justifies the means’ and adoption of ‘speaking the truth in love’ as a political strategy: affirming what is good in opposing viewpoints or parties, avoiding name-calling or manoeuvring for position, choosing gentleness and integrity over efficacy.

• Modest expectations that neither dismiss political engagement as worthless nor accord this messianic significance (as in Christendom and many post-Enlightenment secular systems).

Rodney Clapp writes: ‘Non-Constantinian Christians are in no position to overthrow the system. What we can hope to do, most often and over the long haul, is survive it and subvert it to its own good. What we are about might then be called sanctified subversion.’

I see much wisdom here that invites further exploration. Yes! An Easter gift?

Bill Moyers writes concerning the theological quicksand on which rests the ecological future of Earth, quoting Shakespeare —

What has happened to our moral imagination?

On the heath Lear asks Gloucester: “How do you see the world?” And Gloucester, who is blind, answers: “I see it feelingly.’”

I see it feelingly.

Why don’t we feel the world enough to save it — for our kin to come?

I see it feelingly. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

These may be the most accurate words describing my own condition I’ve ever read. When I read King Lear in high school, I didn’t notice. Whoa, now I do.

Not only does this aptly reflect my general INFP approach to life, it’s also my specific MO, of necessity, because my physical eyes have never worked very well. (Although toric contacts have recently wrought a miracle even there.)

Almost everything I write, say, and do springs from seeing the world feelingly. Sometimes faultily, but always feelingly.

[Insert: Note that “feelingly” does not preclude “thinkingly” and “informedly.” I aim for the sweet spot combining all three — as, dare I say it, should we all. Delusion can’t easily set up residence in people who feel and think and learn.]

What this seeing tells me, above almost all else, is that God requires of us that we steward this earth he has entrusted us with, care for it, nurture it, love it (and those on it) as his good creation. “Well done, good and faithful servant!” will be music in our ears on doing so. But should we destroy it in the service of an arrogant, exploitive misunderstanding of the word dominion, I expect what we’ll hear is more along the lines of “throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness.”

What kind of creator would delight in seeing one part of his creation destroy another part? If destruction is required (see Flood), it’s always the creator’s call. Such action is never the call of the created.

Reminds me of the wicked tenants in Jesus’ parable who sought to forcibly take possession of a vineyard that wasn’t theirs. Jesus tells the story to illustrate the people’s soon-to-come rejection and killing of him as “the vineyard owner’s son.” I think it bears an interpretation that focuses on the outcome for the tenants, too: If we — who are, after all, tenants here — continue our “we can do anything we want” disregard for, and abuse of, this planet-size vineyard, we can reasonably expect a comparable outcome: “What then will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and kill those tenants and give the vineyard to others.”

[via DHinMI]